GIFT   OF 
G.   I.:.   Hicoardson 


PHILIP  AND   HIS  WIFE 


BY 


MARGARET    DELAND 

AUTHOR  OF   "JOHN  WARD,  PREACHER,"   "  SIDNEY " 
"THE  STORY  OF  A  CHILD,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


"  Marriage  is  not  a  result,  but  a  process  " 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND    COMPANY 

res?,  Camfcri&ge 
1894 


Copyright,  1894, 
BY  MARGARET  DELAND. 

All  rights  reserved 
730  3<^ 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  8.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 


I. 


The  postman  and  the  people  of  the  place  knew  where  each  family 
lived.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  world,  what  has  one  to  do  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  when  he  is  safe  at  home  ?  —  JACKANAPES. 

"Now,  mother  dear,  you  are  all  comfortable, 
aren't  you?  Here  is  your  Prayer-Book.  And 
see,  I  've  put  the  roses  over  on  the  chest  of  drawers ; 
I  don't  believe  you  '11  notice  the  fragrance  here." 

Mrs.  Drayton  moved  her  head  languidly  and 
glanced  about.  "  Yes,  as  comfortable  as  I  can  be. 
But  I  'm  used  to  being  uncomfortable.  I  think  per 
haps  you  might  move  my  chair  just  a  little  further 
from  the  windows,  Lyssie.  Might  n't  I  feel  a  draft 
here?" 

This  was  too  important  a  question  for  a  mere 
"  yes  "  or  "  no."  Alicia  Drayton  knelt  down  beside 
her  mother,  and  leaned  her  fresh  young  cheek  to 
wards  the  closed  window.  "  I  don't  feel  the  slightest 
air,  dear,"  she  said  anxiously. 

"  Ah,  well,  you  !  I  suppose  you  don't.  What 
color  you  have,  Lyssie !  I  don't  see  why  I  have  n't 
some  of  your  health.  I  'm  sure,  when  you  were 
born,  I  gave  you  all  of  mine." 


2  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

44  If  you  would  just  go  out  a  little  bit  more  ? " 
Alicia  suggested  hopefully. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  don't  be  foolish,"  said  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton.  "  Go  out !  How  can  I  go  out  ?  It  tires  me 
to  walk  across  the  room.  Yes,  you  had  better  move 
my  chair.  I  'm  sure  there  is  a  little  air." 

44  Well,"  Alicia  said  cheerfully,  "  there  !  Can 
you  look  out  of  the  window  if  I  put  you  as  far  away 
from  it  as  this  ?  " 

44 1  don't  care  about  looking  out  of  the  window," 
sighed  Mrs.  Drayton ;  "  there  is  nothing  to  see  ;  and 
I  'm  going  to  read  my  chapter  as  soon  as  you  have 
gone.  I  '11  tell  you  what  you  may  do,  Lyssie.  You 
may  go  over  and  ask  Susy  Carr  to  come  in  some 
time  this  morning.  If  she  is  out  anywhere  on  the 
farm,  see  if  you  can't  find  her,  and  tell  her  I  hope 
she  '11  come.  It 's  very  foolish  in  me,  but  I  don't 
like  to  be  alone.  I  think  I  feel  my  loneliness  more 
as  I  grow  older." 

44 1  wish  papa  were  going  to  be  at  home  this  sum 
mer,"  Lyssie  said.  44  Of  course  it 's  lonely  for  you 
with  only  me." 

44 1  was  n't  finding  fault  with  your  father,"  Mrs. 
Drayton  answered  quickly,  44  and  I  have  no  com 
plaint  to  make  when  I  have  you  ;  but  now  Cecil  and 
Philip  are  coming,  I  suppose  I  shan't  see  anything 
of  you." 

44  Of  course  you  will !  and  Cecil  and  Philip  and 
Molly,  too." 

44  Oh,  don't  call  the  child  by  that  ridiculous 
name ! "  said  Molly's  grandmother,  or  rather,  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  6 

step-grandmother ;  "  though  her  real  name  is  ugly 
enough,  poor  child.  Why  Cecil  should  have  named 
the  baby  after  Philip's  mother,  when  she  never  knew 
her,  and  couldn't  have  had  any  affection  for  her,  I 
never  could  understand." 

Mrs.  Drayton1  s  unspoken  inference  that  it  would 
have  been  more  fitting  to  have  given  her  name  to 
the  child  did  not  escape  Alicia ;  but  inferences  are 
generally  best  left  without  comment,  so  she  only 
said,  "  Well,  dear,  everything  is  in  order  now,  so 
I  '11  run  up  to  Cecil's.  Eliza  Todd  is  to  bring  a 
woman  to  help  her  with  the  windows,  but  I  'm  going 
to  take  the  covers  off  the  pictures,  and  just  see  to 
the  finishing  touches.  I  think  everything  will  be 
fixed  by  the  time  they  get  here ;  and  I  '11  stop  and 
ask  Miss  Susan  to  come  in  and  cheer  you  up." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton,  with  that  weary 
closing  of  the  eyes  which  every  one  who  has  had  the 
care  of  an  invalid  knows  too  well.  "  I  want  every 
thing  to  be  nice  for  Cecil,  I  'm  sure.  But  it 's  a 
little  bitter  to  be  so  much  alone." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  be  back  by  dinner  time,"  Alicia  re 
minded  her  brightly.  "Do  you  want  me  to  take 
Cecil  a  bunch  of  poppies  from  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  do,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton,  opening 
her  eyes.  "  Cecil  does  n't  really  care  for  me  — 
no,  don't  interrupt  me,  Lyssie  !  /  know  ;  —  but  no 
one  can  say  I  don't  do  everything  in  the  world  for 
your  dear  papa's  daughter.  No  one  can  say  she 
is  n't  exactly  like  my  own  child." 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Alicia  soothingly. 


4  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  say  4  of  course ' !  "  cried 
Mrs.  Draytoii.  "  I  'm  sure  there  are  a  great  many 
step-mothers  who  might  have  made  a  difference." 

"  I  only  meant  of  course  you  loved  Ceci,"  Lyssie 
explained. 

"  I  remember,"  Mrs.  Drayton  proceeded,  with  a 
hint  of  tears  in  her  voice,  —  "I  remember  perfectly 
well,  once,  when  you  were  both  little  things,  some 
body  asked  Susy  Carr  4  which  was  Mr.  Drayton's 
child  by  his  first  wife.'  I  think  that  shows  how  I 
treated  Cecil." 

Cecil's  step-mother  almost  sobbed,  and  her  daugh 
ter  had  to  stop  to  kiss  and  comfort  her,  though  it 
was  getting  warmer  every  moment,  and  the  walk  to 
her  sister's  house  was  long  and  sunny. 

"  Oh,  go,  go !  "  said  Mrs.  Drayton.  "  I  felt  you 
look  over  my  head  at  the  clock.  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
want  to  interfere  with  your  plans  about  Cecil.  I 
suppose  you've  told  Esther  about  my  eggnog? 
Give  my  love  to  Philip.  I  must  say  he  's  never  let 
Cecil  teach  him  to  be  disrespectful  to  me ;  he  is 
always  properly  attentive." 

Alicia  Drayton  was  only  twenty-one,  but  she  ex 
celled  in  the  art,  which  is  taught  to  perfection  in  a 
sick-room,  of  knowing  when  to  ignore  complaints. 
A  certain  angelic  common  sense  gave  her  at  once 
discrimination  and  tenderness,  —  those  two  qualities 
which  must  be  together  for  the  full  development  of 
either. 

"  Yes,  Esther  will  bring  the  eggnog  at  eleven," 
she  said  cheerfully.  "  Good-by,  mother  darling." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  5 

She  gave  an  anxious  thought,  as  she  went  down 
stairs,  to  that  possible  draft ;  and  her  face  sobered 
as  she  stood  for  a  moment  in  the  open  doorway  of 
the  dark,  cool  hall,  and  saw  the  blaze  of  June  sun 
shine  over  the  garden.  The  thought  of  her  mother 
sitting  all  alone,  in  the  half-light  of  lowered  curtains 
and  bowed  shutters,  struck  on  the  girl's  tender  heart 
with  a  sort  of  shame  at  her  own  young  vigor.  She 
knew  how  Mrs.  Drayton's  pallid  face  and  weak  eyes 
would  have  shrunk  away  from  what  she  always 
spoke  of  as  the  "  glare,"  and  how  the  hot  fragrance 
of  the  roses  woidd  have  made  her  poor,  heavy  head 
ache.  "  But  it  does  seem  as  though  she  might  look 
out  of  the  window,"  Lyssie  thought,  sighing.  Yet 
she  had  been  content  to  let  her  mother  be  comfort 
able  in  her  own  way.  From  which  it  will  be  seen 
that  Miss  Alicia  Drayton  was  an  unusual  young 
woman.  Indeed,  very  early  in  life  this  girl  had 
displayed  the  pathetic  common  sense  of  the  child 
whose  mother's  foolishness  forces  her  into  a  discre 
tion  beyond  her  years.  The  village  had  acknow 
ledged  her  merit  long  ago,  —  acknowledged  it  with 
the  slight  condescension  with  which  Old  Chester 
commented  upon  Youth. 

"  A  very  good  girl,"  said  the  village,  "  but " 
Old  Chester  was  apt  to  balance  its  praise  with  a 
"  but "  -  *'  it 's  a  pity  the  child  has  n't  more  accom- 
plislunents.  She 's  been  so  busy  taking  care  of  her 
poor  mother  all  these  years  that  she  has  n't  a  single 
accomplisiiment. " 

Mrs,  Drayton,  however,  would  have  explained  that 


6  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.-' . 

an  invalid  could  not  be  expected  to  think  of  such 
trivial  things  as  accomplishments.  "  I  've  brought 
her  up  to  be  a  good  child,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton; 
and  certainly  nobody  could  deny  that.  In  fact, 
Alicia's  mother  did  very  little  beside  read  her  Bible, 
and  meditate  over  certain  small  good  books  of  the 
nature  of  Gathered  Pearls  and  Daily  Foods.  She 
kept  a  stand  at  her  elbow  for  her  half  dozen  devout 
and  well-worn  volumes.  Thomas  a  Kempis  was 
there  ;  and  her  Prayer-Book,  with  flowers  pressed 
between  the  pages  of  especially  significant  saints' 
days,  and  small  marginal  ejaculations  scattered 
through  the  Psalter,  —  ejaculations  which  Mrs. 
Drayton  not  infrequently  read  aloud  to  her  callers. 
There  was  also  upon  the  stand  a  little  calendar, 
with  a  text,  a  hymn,  and  a  prayer  for  each  day. 
This  was  a  distinct  interest  in  the  poor  sick  lady's 
life,  for  there  was  the  element  of  surprise  in  tear 
ing  off  each  slip  ;  she  was  apt  to  inclose  an  espe 
cially  beautiful  page  to  any  correspondent  to 
whom  she  chanced  to  be  writing,  and  she  would  add 
"  True  !  "  or  underline  a  word  or  phrase,  to  show 
how  personal  were  these  printed  outbursts  of  religious 
feeling. 

Her  husband,  compelled  by  ill  health  to  live 
abroad,  was  greatly  favored  in  this  way.  Yet  he 
had  been  known  to  say  that  "  Frances's  goodness 
was  the  worst  part  of  her."  Indeed,  irreverent  lips 
whispered  that  Mrs.  Drayton's  goodness  was  the 
peculiar  disease  which  needed  European  treatment. 

"  But  then,  why  did  he  marry  her,  if  he  did  n't 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  1 

want  to  live  with  her  ? "  the  village  reflected. 
"  Everybody  knew  what  Fanny  Dacie  was.  And 
why  did  he  marry  again,  anyhow?  His  child  by 
his  first  wife  had  a  good  home  with  the  Ashurst 
Draytons.  He  had  n?  need  to  marry  again." 

Mr.    William    Drayton,    however,    had    thought 
differently. 

After  the  calamity  of  his  first  wife's  death,  he  had 
left  the  baby  Cecil  with  his  sister-in-law  in  Ashurst, 
and,  dazed  and  bewildered  by  his  grief,  had  gone 
away  to  forget.  For  several  years  he  wandered  aim 
lessly  about  the  world.  And  when  he  drifted  home 
again,  and  found  Cecil,  with  her  mother's  eyes  and 
her  mother's  name,  —  which  made  him  wince  when 
ever  he  had  to  address  her,  —  when  he  found  her 
irritable  and  discontented  among  her  cousins  in 
Colonel  Drayton's  household,  why,  then  he  married 
again.  He  did  not  love  the  child,  but  it  was  hers, 
so  it  must  have  a  home.  He  took  Cecil  and  went 
back  to  Old  Chester,  and  opened  up  the  house  he 
had  closed  when  his  wife  died.  What  the  associa 
tions  were,  what  strange  certainties  came  to  him  of 
that  dead  wife's  sympathy  in  his  search  for  a  new 
wife,  he  did  not  confide  to  any  one,  least  of  all  to 
Miss  Frances  Dacie,  while  he  sought  to  impress  upon 
her  that  his  happiness  and  her  welfare  —  a  more 
truthful  man  might  have  reversed  these  terms  — 
depended  upon  their  marriage.  Miss  Dacie  was 
thirty-one  ;  she  yielded  to  his  entreaty  without  that 
foolish  hesitation  which  younger  ladies  sometimes 
deem  necessary.  Having  thus  provided  a  home  anc 


8  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

a  mother  for  little  Cecil,  William  Drayton  found, 
in  a  year  or  two,  that  his  health  demanded  foreign 
travel. 

"  And  the  unfortunate  part  of  it  is,"  said  Mr. 
Drayton,  forty  years  old,  gray,  blase,  standing  with 
his  back  to  the  fireplace  in  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lavendar's 
study,  —  "  the  unfortunate  part  of  it  is,  my  wife 
is  such  a  wretched  invalid  (she  has  never  been  well, 
you  know,  since  little  Lyssie  was  born)  she  is  n't 
able  to  go  with  me.  She  could  n't  stand  traveling ; 
and  traveling,  King  says,  is  what  I  need.  My  only 
consolation  is  that  I  can  live  so  much  more  cheaply 
in  Europe,  which  of  course  is  a  good  thing  for  Fran 
ces  and  the  girls." 

And  thus  it  was  that  Mr.  William  Drayton  be 
came  a  fugitive  from  matrimony. 

He  did  give  a  thought  sometimes  to  the  task 
which  Miss  Dacie  had  assumed  because  of  her  desire 
to  promote  his  happiness.  But  he  consoled  himself 
by  reflecting  upon  her  welfare.  "  She  likes  liv 
ing  in  the  Poindexter  house,"  he  thought,  his  cold, 
heavy  eyes  closing  in  a  smile,  "  and  it 's  a  great 
satisfaction  to  her  to  be  married,  even  if  she  does 
have  to  wrestle  with  Cecilia ;  but  I  've  no  doubt  that 
little  monkey,  Lyssie,  will  improve  Cecilia." 

That  Cecilia  needed  to  be  improved  no  one  could 
deny.  Her  aunt,  Mrs.  Henry  Drayton  of  Ashurst, 
used  to  testify  to  that  emphatically. 

"  I  had  that  child  seven  years,"  she  would  say, 
"  and  nobody  can  tell  me  anything  about  her.  She 
is  the  strangest  creature  !  —  though  I  'm  sure  I  tried 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  9 

to  make  her  a  good  child.  Poor  Frances  !  I  must 
say  I  pity  her." 

Indeed,  Mrs.  Henry  Drayton  had  continued  to  try 
to  make  Cecil  a  good  child  even  after  she  had 
•  handed  her  over,  "  with  a  sigh  of  relief,"  to  Mrs. 
William. 

"  Cecil,  my  dear,  you  ought  not  to  call  your  mam 
ma  '  Mrs.  Drayton,'  "  she  instructed  her  niece. 

"  My  mamma  is  dead,  and  I  don't  love  Mrs. 
Drayton,"  Cecil  answered,  with  a  little  pause  be 
tween  her  slow  sentences.  ' 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Henry.  "  She  is  your  father's  wife,  and  you  should 
treat  her  with  respect  even  if  you  don't  love  her ; 
and  it  is  n't  respectful  to  say  '  Mrs.  Drayton.'  ' 

"  I  'd  just  as  lief  say  '  Miss  Dacie,'  "  the  child 
said. 

Her  aunt  gasped  and  cried,  "  You  are  a  naughty 
little  girl !  Of  course  you  are  not  to  say  4  Miss 
Dacie  ' ;  she  is  your  papa's  wife,  and  —  " 

"  How  many  wives  can  papa  have  ?  "  Cecil  inter 
posed  calmly  ;  "  my  mother  is  his  wife." 

"  Your  mother  is  a  saint  in  heaven  !  —  at  least, 
I  hope  she  is,"  said  Mrs.  Henry,  horrified.  "  If  I 
were  your  mamma,  I  'd  send  you  to  bed  without  any 
supper." 

"  I  'm  glad  papa  did  n't  marry  you ;  that  would 
have  been  worse  than  Mrs.  Drayton,"  her  niece 
announced. 

And  then  Mrs.  Henry  wept  with  Mrs.  William, 
and  said  she  pitied  her  with  all  her  heart ;  and  no- 


10  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

body  was  more  rejoiced  than  she,  when,  at  eighteen, 
Cecil,  just  home  from  boarding-school,  became  en 
gaged  to  Philip  Shore. 

"  I  rejoice  on  your  account,  dear  Frances,"  she 
wrote  to  Cecil's  step-mother.  "  What  a  relief  it 
must  be,  after  your  noble  devotion  of  these  eleven 
years,  at  last  to  hand  her  over  to  a  husband,  — 
though  I  must  say  I  pity  the  young  man  !  The 
colonel  and  I  are  delighted  to  hear  what  an  es 
timable  person  he  is,  though  I  'm  sorry  he  has  n't 
expectations  from  his  uncle.  However,  Cecil  has 
money  enough  for  both.  I  hope,  for  your  sake,  they 
will  be  married  at  once." 

But  they  were  not  married  at  once.  Philip  spent 
three  years  in  one  of  the  Paris  studios,  so  Mrs. 
Drayton  was  still  obliged  to  endure  her  step-daugh 
ter's  indolence,  and  willful  ways,  and  occasional  black 
tempers  ;  and  also  her  cold  indifference,  not  only  to 
herself,  but,  it  must  be  admitted,  to  Old  Chester ! 

When  at  last  she  married  Philip  Shore,  the  vil 
lage  drew  a  breath  of  satisfaction.  "  Dear  Philip," 
it  said,  — "  such  a  really  superior  young  man ! 
Now  poor  Cecil  will  improve." 

But  except  that  Philip  took  her  away  for  a  year, 
no  improvement  was  visible.  She  came  back  when 
Molly  was  born,  and  then  everybody  said  they  hoped 
the  baby  would  make  a  difference  in  Cecil.  It  did  ; 
it  added  to  the  strange,  passionate,  untrained  nature 
the  passion  of  maternity. 

"  Though  I  don't  care  now  what  they  say  about 
me,"  Cecil  said  languidly  to  her  husband,  looking 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  11 

down  at  the  small  head  upon  her  arm  ;  "  I  have 
this  !  And  really,  Philip,  you  must  admit  I  am  of 
some  value  to  Old  Chester?  I  give  it  something  to 
gossip  about.  If  I  were  suddenly  to  grow  good, 
people  would  be  disappointed  !  " 

There  was  truth  in  this.  All  her  life  Cecil  had 
afforded  to  her  friends  that  interest  of  shuddering 
disapproval  which  is  so  delightful.  Even  her  father 
had  felt  it  when  he  came  home  to  see  her  married. 
"  There  are  possibilities  in  this  affair,"  he  thought, 
watching  her  with  amiable,  impersonal  interest.  "  If 
this  Philip  would  get  drunk  once  in  a  while,  or  swear 
at  her,  I  think  it  might  turn  out  pretty  well.  But 
he  won't,  he  won't,"  said  Mr.  Drayton,  with  real 
regret ;  "  he  '11  be  too  damned  polite  to  her."  He 
was  surprised  at  his  fatherly  solicitude ;  for  the 
paternal  tie  is  weakened  after  twelve  years  of  ab 
sence,  broken  only  by  occasional  visits.  "  The  young 
man,"  he  meditated,  standing  on  the  threshold,  bid 
ding  adieu  to  the  departing  bride  and  groom,  —  "  the 
young  man  is  in  love  ;  there 's  no  doubt  about  that. 
And  as  for  her,  I  suppose  he  is  the  first  man  she  has 
seen,  and  so  she  's  in  love,  too.  But  very  likely  she  'd 
have  married  the  Devil  to  get  away  from  Frances." 
He  was  really  interested ;  perhaps,  could  his  visit 
have  been  prolonged,  he  might  have  felt  some  anx 
iety  in  spite  of  himself.  He  was  absent-minded  as 
he  listened  to  Old  Chester's  praise  of  Philip,  and 
ominous  omission  of  Cecil's  name.  "  The  boy  is  an 
ascetic,"  he  was  saying  to  himself,  "  and  she  —  "  He 
closed  his  lips  ;  at  least  she  was  Cecilia's  child.  He 


12  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

had  not  seen  her  since,  for,  the  winter  that  the 
young  husband  and  wife  were  in  Paris,  there  were 
reasons  why  Mr.  Drayton  could  not  ask  his  daughter 
to  visit  what  he  called  his  "  humble  roof  "  in  Cannes  ; 
and  so,  to  avoid  embarrassing  inhospitality,  he  had 
found  it  necessary  to  be  in  Egypt  for  his  health. 
The  next  time  he  came  to  Old  Chester,  Philip  and 
his  wife  were  living  in  town,  and,  as  Mrs.  Drayton 
explained,  "  dear  William  was  unwilling  to  take  a 
moment  from  me,  though  he  would  have  been  inter 
ested  to  see  Molly,  of  course." 

When  her  step-daughter  married,  the  consolation 
of  living  in  the  finest  house  in  Old  Chester  was 
taken  away  from  Mrs.  Drayton.  The  Poiiidexter 
house  had  belonged  to  the  first  Mrs.  Drayton,  and 
had  been  settled  on  her  child,  as  was  also  her  not 
inconsiderable  fortune.  But  when  the  plans  for 
Cecil's  wedding  were  made,  Mr.  Drayton  arranged 
that  his  wife  and  younger  daughter  should  take  a 
house  in  the  village,  "  where,"  he  wrote,  "  as  soon 
as  my  miserable  health  permits,  I  shall  hope  to  join 
ray  dear  ones  permanently."  But  thus  far  his  health 
had  not  permitted. 

That  moving  from  her  sister's  house  had  been  a 
great  trial  to  Alicia,  who  had  been  born  there,  and 
had  spent  a  happy  childhood  in  its  gardens  and 
orchards  ;  but  she  had  not  been  able  to  think  very 
much  of  her  own  feelings.  All  her  childish  courage 
was  needed  to  sustain  her  mother,  who  wept  and 
moaned,  and  said  that  Cecil  had  turned  her  out  of 
doors.  "Papa  has  made  this  arrangement,  Mrs. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  13 

Drayton,"  her  step-daughter  reminded  her  briefly; 
and  Mrs.  Drayton' s  pride  refused  her  the  luxury  of 
finding  fault  with  her  husband.  It  was  nine  years 
ago  that  this  change  was  made,  but  Alicia's  deepest 
home  feeling  was  still  for  the  great  brick  house  on 
the  hill,  where  she  had  spent  those  twelve  happy 
years.  She  could  see  it  from  her  window  in  the 
village,  lifting,  above  the  foliage  on  the  hillside,  its 
square,  flat  roof  with  the  white  balustrade.  The 
house  had  white  corner  trimmings,  and  white  lintels 
and  copings,  and  the  worn  brick  floor  of  the  veranda 
was  darkened  by  a  roof  lifted  above  the  second-story 
windows  by  four  white  columns.  It  was  cool  on 
this  porch,  even  on  a  June  day  like  this  on  which 
Cecil  and  her  husband  were  coming  back  to  Old 
Chester  to  spend  the  summer,  —  a  day  brimming 
with  hot  sunshine,  and  with  not  a  breath  of  wind  to 
carry  the  scents  of  the  garden  up  to  the  open  win 
dows  of  the  house. 

Alicia  Drayton  had  sheltered  herself  under  a  big 
umbrella  when  she  climbed  the  hill ;  but  she  was 
glad  to  sit  down  on  the  porch  steps  and  rest,  and 
fan  herself  with  her  hat,  before  going  indoors  to  her 
pleasant  task  of  giving  the  final  touches  of  order 
and  comfort  to  her  sistervs  house.  Eliza  Todd,  who 
\vas  scrubbing  somewhere  within,  came  clattering 
through  the  hall  to  tell  Miss  Drayton  that  all  the 
mopboards  were  cleaned,  "  and  cleaned  good"  said 
Eliza ;  and  that  consciousness  made  her  feel  enough 
at  leisure  to  stand  leaning  on  her  broom  listening  to 
Miss  Lyssie,  who  was  incapable  of  seeing  any  reason 


14  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

why  she  should  not  tell  her  scrubbing-woman  how 
happy  she  was  to  have  her  sister  at  home  again. 

"  And  Molly  ;  Molly  is  my  little  niece,  Eliza ; 
she 's  just  eight.  Oh,  she  is  the  dearest  little  thing ! 
Though  she  can't  be  very  little  now  ;  she  was  five 
the  last  time  I  saw  her,  and  of  course  she  's  grown 
since  then." 

"  And  have  they  just  the  one  ?  "  said  Eliza. 

"  Yes ;  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  my  sister 
would  do  if  there  were  any  others,  she  loves  Molly 
so  much!  " 

"  Well,"  Eliza  commented,  "  a  mother,  she 's 
always  got  love  enough  to  go  round,  somehow.  I 
wish  you  could  say  the  same  of  shoes." 

"  How  is  Job,  Eliza  ?  "  the  girl  asked  kindly. 

u  He 's  been  sober  for  three  days,"  said  Job's  wife. 
"  If  your  sister  had  to  count  days  between  sprees, 
she  might  say  she  was  glad  there  was  only  one.  And 
me  with  six,  an'  another  coming  !  Well,  Miss  Lys- 
sie,  the  Good  Man's  judgment  ain't  just  like  ours,  is 
it  ?  Me  with  six,  an'  only  one  in  a  nice  house  like 
this.  —  Well,  I  guess  I  '11  go  back  to  that  hall ;  it 
wants  to  be  swep'  once  more." 

Alicia  followed  her  in  pitying  silence,  and  a  grave 
look  lingered  in  her  face  even  when  she  was  busy 
with  her  pleasant  work.  Her  scrubwoman's  domes 
tic  infelicities  were  very  puzzling  to  Lyssie.  Once, 
hesitatingly,  after  discouraging  efforts  to  reconcile 
the  husband  and  wife,  whose  violent  quarrels  were 
commonplace  village  gossip,  she  had  suggested  to 
Miss  Carr  that  Eliza  be  advised  to  leave  Job. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  15 

"  They  don't  like  each  other,  Miss  Susan,"  the  girl 
said,  "  and  he  treats  her  badly,  and  we  have  to  sup 
port  the  children." 

"  Why,  he  is  her  husband,  Lyssie  Drayton ! " 
cried  Miss  Susan.  "  You  don't  know  what  you  are 
talking  about,  child !  "  And  her  horrified  disap 
proval  closed  Alicia's  lips. 

"  But  I  'm  going  to  ask  Ceci  what  she  thinks," 
Lyssie  said  to  herself,  when,  late  in  the  afternoon, 
a  half  hour  before  it  was  time  to  expect  the  stage, 
she  went  out  on  the  porch  again  to  rest.  And  then, 
in  her  own  happiness,  she  could  not  help  forgetting 
poor  Eliza  and  her  troubles.  A  red  rose  leaned  its 
chin  upon  the  balustrade  and  looked  at  her.  Alicia 
pulled  it  down  against  her  cheek  in  a  pretty  caress  ; 
it  made  her  think  of  her  sister.  It  was  brimmed 
with  sunshine,  and  hot  and  sweet  with  passionate 
color.  She  remembered  how  Cecil  liked  to  sit  in 
the  sun,  with  lovely,  lazy,  half-shut  eyes,  and  strong 
white  fingers  clasped  behind  her  head.  Alicia 
twisted  the  thorny  stem,  but  dropped  it  quickly,  and 
put  her  finger  to  her  lips  and  said,  "  Ouch !  "  and 
then  tried  again  to  pluck  it.  "  I  '11  put  it  on  her 
dressing  table,"  she  reflected,  "  and  tell  her  it  looks 
like  her." 


II. 


but,  friend,  to  me 

He  is  all  fault  who  hath  no  fault  at  all : 
For  who  loves  me  must  have  a  touch  of  earth. 

TENNYSON. 

CECIL  SHOHE'S  house  was  all  ready  for  her,  when, 
at  five,  the  yellow  coach,  swinging,  pitching  on  its 
big  springs,  came  rumbling  up  the  lane  with  much 
clattering  of  harness  and  cracking  of  the  whip. 
Philip  was  on  the  top  seat  with  the  driver,  his  hand 
on  the  collar  of  a  big  dog,  whose  trepidation  at  his 
swaying  elevation  was  manifest ;  his  master's  face 
broke  into  a  smile  at  the  sight  of  Alicia,  standing  in 
happy  excitement  on  the  steps,  and  before  the  horses 
could  come  to  a  standstill  he  had  swung  himself 
down  and  kissed  her,  with  one  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
and  the  other  dragging  Eric  back,  for  the  dog  had 
followed  him  with  a  flying  leap.  Then  he  turned 
and  opened  the  stage  door,  which  was  glowing  with 
an  Italian  landscape  of  mountains  and  lakes,  and 
Lombardy  poplars. 

Cecil,  in  the  dark  cavern  of  the  coach,  was  smiling 
at  some  one  beside  her.  "  Yes,  that  is  Lyssie ; 
that  is  my  sister,"  she  was  explaining.  "  Lys  dear, 
here  we  are  !  Have  you  worked  your  little  hands  off 
for  us  ?  "  The  soft,  dark  feathers  of  her  wide  hat 
brushed  the  top  of  the  stage  doorway,  as,  slowly,  touch- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  17 

ing  her  husband's  arm  to  steady  herself,  she  came 
down  the  two  hinged  steps ;  then  she  smiled  up  at 
Alicia,  and  put  two  fingers  under  the  girl's  chin 
and  kissed  her.  "  Bless  your  dear  little  heart !  " 
she  said.  "  I  hope  you  are  not  worn  out  by  house- 
cleaning  ?  "  And  then  she  looked  over  her  shoulder 
at  the  gentleman  who  had  followed  her  from  the 
coach,  and  upon  whom  Eric  was  bestowing  a  warm, 
wet  welcome. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Carey,  Lyssie ;  my  sister,  Mr.  Ca 
rey.  Oh,  don't  let  Eric  jump  all  over  you !  Well, 
Lys  dear,  how  are  you  ?  Oh,  Lyssie,  I  left  my  book 
in  the  stage  ;  get  it,  dear,  will  you  ?  " 

Alicia  had  no  eyes  for  any  one  but  Cecil.  She 
ran  back  for  the  book,  and  stopped  to  hug  Molly 
once  again, 4 and  said  no  more  than  "Excuse  me" 
when  she  brushed  past  Mr.  Carey  and  followed  her 
sister  into  the  drawing-room.  There  she  put  Cecil 
into  a  big  chair,  and  then  stood  and  looked  at  her, 
her  breath  shaken  by  a  happiness  which  brought  the 
tears  to  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  !  "  she  said ;  strangely  enough, 
the  older  woman  stirred  all  the  mother  in  the  girl. 
"  Oh,  Ceci,  to  think  you  are  here  !  "  She  slipped 
down  to  the  floor,  and  put  her  arms  about  her  sister's 
waist  and  kissed  her  shoulder.  "  Are  you  well  ?  Is 
Philip  well?  Molly  looks  as  blooming  as  a  rose. 
Oh,  Ceci,  there  never  was  anybody  so  dear  as  you !  " 

"  Molly  is  an  angel,"  Molly's  mother  declared. 
"  Lyssie,  here  is  Mr.  Carey.  Mr.  Carey,  a  declara 
tion  is  being  made  me."  She  bent  Alicia's  face 


18  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

back  and  kissed  her,  smiling,  and  then  she  glanced 
about  the  long,  pleasant  room. 

"  Oh,  how  familiar  it  all  looks !  Mr.  Carey,  my 
sister  has  put  this  whole  house  in  order  for  me." 

Mr.  Carey,  standing  in  the  doorway,  was  civilly 
surprised  at  Miss  Drayton's  goodness  and  cleverness, 
but  he  was  plainly  more  interested  in  Eric,  who 
ought  to  have  some  water,  he  said. 

"  Here,  you  brute,"  he  protested,  "  don't  jump  on 
me  !  Mrs.  Shore,  may  Eric  come  into  the  parlor  ?  " 

"  You  must  ask  Lyssie,"  she  said,  leaning  back 
in  her  chair.  "  May  he  come  in,  Lys  ?  How  cool 
it  is  in  here  with  this  white  matting  on  the  floor ! 
Lyssie,  the  house  looks  as  though  it  had  been  lived 
in  always ;  and  let  me  see  —  it 's  three  years  since 
we  *ve  been  here,  isn't  it?  Those  poppies  are  su 
perb.  Oh,  what  color,  what  color !  Mrs.  Drayton 
sent  them  ?  She  's  very  good,  I  'm  sure.  I  hope 
she  is  quite  well  ?  Molly,  come  pull  off  mamma's 
gloves.  And  how  is  Old  Chester,  Lyssie?  Is 
everybody  asleep?  Do  you  think  they  will  waken 
up  to  talk  about  me?  Oh,  do  put  those  poppies 
here  beside  me ;  that  scarlet  is  —  I  think  it  is  an  ex 
pression  of  religion.  Poor  Lys,  how  I  shock  you ! 
Mr.  Carey,  did  you  know  that  Mr.  Shore  was  the 
Example  of  Old  Chester,  and  I  the  Warning  ?  We 
come  like  two  traveling  evangelists." 

"  Well,  I  will  go*  and  assist  the  Example,"  said 
the  young  man,  and  went  out  into  the  hall,  where 
the  master  of  the  house  was  giving  directions  about 
trunks  and  boxes* 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  10 

Alicia  was  so  far  used  to  the  excited  happiness 
of  the  arrival  that  she  glanced  at  Mr.  Carey,  and 
thought  that  his  short,  rough,  blond  hair  made  him 
rather  good-looking.  He  also  glanced  at  her  with  a 
pair  of  candid,  obstinate  blue  eyes,  and  said  to  him 
self,  "  To  think  of  those  two  women  being  sisters  !  " 
Indeed,  his  impression  of  her  was  deep  enough  to 
make  him  say,  while  he  was  looking  after  Eric's 
comfort,  "  She  seems  like  a  mighty  nice  girl." 

Cecil,  meantime,  in  her  big,  cool  bedroom,  was 
explaining  her  guest  to  her  sister.  "  I  hardly  know 
him  ;  I  Ve  only  seen  him  twice.  He 's  a  friend  of 
Philip's  ;  he 's  a  lawyer,  but  quite  an  authority  on 
pig  iron,  too.  He  looks  it,  somehow,  don't  you 
think  he  does  ?  The  word  suggests  him,  —  pig  iron. 
Well,  you  know  Philip  is  writing  a  book  on  the 
chemical  changes  in  pig  iron,  —  Heaven  knows  why ! 
One  would  tliink  he  had  enough  on  his  hands  with 
his  scholarship  fund  and  his  political  people  ;  but  he 
persuaded  Mr.  Carey  to  come  down  for  a  fortnight 
and  help  him  about  something.  Philip  thinks  him 
charming,"  she  ended,  and  smiled,  with  the  corner  of 
her  red  lip  drooping  ;  "  but  really,  he  is  n't  bad." 

She  had  taken  a  gold  pin  from  her  hair,  and  two 
braids  fell  heavily  upon  her  shoulders.  Lyssie,  her 
elbows  on  the  toilet  table,  and  her  chin  in  her  hands, 
sat  absorbed  in  looking  at  her.  "  Oh,  Ceci,  I  wish 
you  would  never  go  away  again,"  she  said. 

"  My  dear  !  I  should  die  here,"  Cecil  assured  her 
seriously.  "  A  summer  is  all  I  can  think  of.  I 
wanted  Molly  to  be  in  the  country,  in  some  quiet 


20  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

place,  and  I  wanted  to  see  you,  so  I  thought  I  could 
stand  Old  Chester  for  three  months.  But  this  room 
is  certainly  very  nice,"  she  broke  off,  with  such  a 
kind  look  that  Alicia  forgot  the  fatigue  of  her  day's 
work.  She  glanced  at  the  white  curtains  in  the  four 
deep  windows,  and  reflected  how  she  had  hammered 
her  thumb  in  putting  them  up ;  but  what  did  that 
matter  ?  Cecil  liked  her  room  !  There  was  matting 
on  the  floor,  and  white  covers  on  the  furniture,  and 
a  deep  white  valance  about  the  bed,  whose  four  tall 
posts  were  crowned  with  a  tester.  It,  too,  was  hung 
with  white  dimity.  There  were  two  silver  candle 
sticks  on  the  table,  and  an  India  china  bowl  full  of 
pale  pink  roses.  There  was  also  a  deep  red  rose  in 
a  glass  on  the  toilet  table. 

"  I  thought  it  looked  like  you,  Ceci,"  the  younger 
sister  said  timidly. 

"  No,  not  a  rose,  Lys,"  she  corrected  her  slowly, 
with  a  melodious  break  of  silence  between  her  sen 
tences.  "  I  'm  a  peony.  I  've  no  soul.  Put  it  in 
Philip's  room.  He  is  all  soul !  Philip  has  almost 
converted  Mr.  Carey  (his  name  is  Roger,  —  Roger 
Carey)  to  his  political  opinions.  Not  quite,  though, 
as  he  has  an  interest  in  a  rolling-mill  at  Mercer,  and 
iron  rust  doth  corrupt,  so  he  's  still  a  Republican. 
But  I  almost  wish  he  would  get  converted,  I  'm  so 
tired  of  hearing  the  excellent  Philip  plead  with  him. 
They  talked  about  it  in  the  train,  all  the  way  to  Mer 
cer.  I  composed  a  new  soup  in  my  mind  to  keep 
the  refrain  of  '  reform '  from  putting  me  to  sleep. 
Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him,  Lys  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  21 

"  He  looks  rather  nice,"  Alicia  commented,  "  and 
he  was  good  to  Eric." 

"  Oh,  he  is  given  up  to  dogs  and  horses  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing ;  he  's  that  sort  of  a  man.  But 
I  like  to  talk  to  him  ;  though  he  is  rude.  I  think, 
if  he  had  been  born  in  a  different  class,  he  would 
have  knocked  his  .wife  down  sometimes,  or  sworn  at 
her,  anyhow." 

"  Is  he  married  ?  "  Lyssie  said. 

"  Oh  dear,  no ;  he  has  n't  money  enough  to  marry. 
What  do  you  think  of  his  looks  ?  " 

"  I  'd  rather  think  of  yours,"  Lyssie  declared. 
"  His  eyes  seemed  nice,  and  I  thought  he  was  rather 
a  rosy  person  ;  oh,  quite  good-looking,  I  think.  But, 
Ceci,  I  think  you  —  oh,  when  you  bring  those  two 
braids  around  behind  your  ears  and  cross  them  on 
top  of  your  head,  with  those  little  tendrils  of  curls 
sticking  out  of  them,  they  look  like  a  chaplet  of 
laurel ! " 

"  You  are  rather  nice-looking  yourself,"  said  the 
other,  thrusting  the  gold  pin  through  these  same 
splendid  braids,  and  glancing  with  kind  eyes  at  her 
young  sister,  who,  indeed,  had  no  more  claim  to 
beauty  than  is  given  by  mere  youth,  with  perhaps  a 
Aresh  color,  and  frank  eyes,  and  a  well-shaped  head 
set  on  a  slender,  girlish  neck.  "  Yes,  though  not  a 
raving  beauty,  you  are  nice  to  look  at.  How  is  our 
dear  papa,  Lys  ?  I  have  n't  heard  from  him  for  six 
months.  He  never  included  me  among  his  4  dear 
ones.' '' 

"  About  the  same,  I  think,"  Alicia  answered  so- 


22  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

berly.  "  Mother  had  a  letter  last  week.  I  wish 
she  were  able  to  join  him,  Ceci.  I  think,  if  she 
just  got  through  the  voyage,  Cannes  would  be  good 
for  her." 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  cried  Cecil.  "  Well,  Lyssie, 
don't  let  Mrs.  Drayton  come  down  upon  him  unex 
pectedly  ;  don't  surprise  him,  dear." 

"  Oh,  there  really  is  n't  any  chance  of  her  doing 
it,"  Lyssie  said  ;  "  but  why  not  ?  I  always  thought 
that  it  would  be  so  pleasant,  to  be  surprised?" 

"I  —  I  don't  think  it  would  be  pleasant,"  Mrs. 
Shore  answered  briefly;  and  added,  "for  our  dear 
papa."  And  then  she  laughed,  and  pushed  her 
chair  back  from  the  dressing  table,  resting  her  fin 
gers  on  its  linen  cover,  and  glancing  into  the  long 
mirror  which  stood  behind  it,  between  the  windows. 

"  Well,  is  there  anything  interesting  going  on  in 
Old  Chester  ?  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  Mr.  Carey 
is  a  sort  of  relation  of  some  Mrs.  Pendleton  (or 
rather  of  her  husband)  who  has  come  to  Old  Ches 
ter  to  live.  He  had  forgotten  it,  but  Philip  discov 
ered  it  in  some  way.  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Well,  she  's  a  widow ;  she  's  —  oh,  I  '11  tell  you 
who  she  is,  Ceci :  she  was  the  Miss  Amanda  Town- 
send  whom  we  used  to  hear  about  when  we  were 
children,  —  don't  you  remember  ?  She  was  engaged 
to  Mr.  Joseph  Lavendar,  and  they  quarreled  ,•  and 
she  married  some  rich  man  right  off,  —  oh,  in  a 
month,  I  think,  or  something  like  that.  Well,  he 
was  Mr.  Pendleton ;  he  died  nearly  two  years  ago. 
Such  crape!  She  must  have  been  very  much  at- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  23 

tached  to  him ;  she 's  all  covered  up  in  crape  yet. 
And  he  left  her  a  house  here,  and  quite  a  lot  of 
money,"  said  Lyssie,  with  some  awe ;  "  they  say  five 
thousand  a  year !  " 

Cecil  laughed,  and  rose.  "  What  a  fortune  !  I 
should  think  Mr.  Joseph  would  try  to  make  up." 

"  I  think  he  'd  like  to,"  Lyssie  said ;  "  but  they 
say  that  if  she  marries  again  she  has  to  give  up  the 
money ;  and  then  I  don't  think  Dr.  Lavendar  likes 
her,  so  Mr.  Joseph  could  n't." 

"  Is  Dr.  Lavendar  just  as  dusty  and  tangled  look 
ing  as  ever  ?  "  Cecil  inquired.  "  People  really  ought 
not  to  be  allowed  to  offend  the  world  by  their  looks ! 
I  had  such  a  time  this  spring  with  my  coachman. 
He  appeared,  if  you  please,  in  blue  spectacles.  It 
didn't  interfere  with  his  driving,  of  course,  but  he 
was  a  perfect  object !  I  told  him  I  could  n't  have 
it.  He  could  take  off  the  spectacles  or  leave.  He 
left :  so  annoying  in  him." 

"  But  the  poor  man's  eyes,"  protested  Lyssie ; 
"  perhaps  he  needed  blue  glasses  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  was  n't  my  affair,"  Cecil  said,  much 
amused. 

"  But  he  must  have  felt  rather  discouraged,"  Lys 
sie  persisted,  "  to  lose  a  place  just  because  —  " 

"  Oh,  those  people  don't  mind,"  Cecil  interrupted 
her  carelessly.  "  Come !  let 's  go  to  the  nursery. 
Molly  is  delicious.  Have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

The  visit  to  the  nursery  delayed  supper,  but  that 
did  not  trouble  Mrs.  Shore.  She  brought  Molly 
downstairs  with  her,  and  kept  her  at  her  side  at  the 


24  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

table,  feeding  her  with  lumps  of  sugar  dipped  in 
coffee,  to  the  child's  delight,  and  her  father's  great 
but  reticent  annoyance. 

Mr.  Carey's  keen  eyes  noticed  the  annoyance  in 
spite  of  the  reticence.  "  Funny  match,"  he  thought, 
glancing  at  his  hostess  across  his  wineglass  ;  and  he 
reflected  that  the  other  sister  was  "  more  like  Shore." 

"  The  other,"  sitting  opposite  him,  was  defending 
herself  from  a  charge  of  neglect. 

"  It 's  very  ungracious  in  you,"  Mrs.  Shore  had 
said,  "  to  leave  me  the  moment  you  Ve  had  your 
supper !  " 

"  You  know  I  'd  like  to  stay,  Ceci,"  the  girl 
pleaded,  "  but  I  don't  want  to  leave  mother  alone 
all  the  evening.  I  was  here  in  the  morning,  you 
know." 

"  You  rushed  home  to  give  her  her  dinner,"  inter 
rupted  Cecil  gayly ;  "  I  am  certain  of  that !  Molly, 
will  you  be  as  good  to  mamma,  when  she  is  old  and 
fussy,  as  aunt  Lyssie  is  to  grandmamma  ?  " 

Alicia's  color  rose  a  little.  "  Of  course  I  went 
home ;  I  wanted  some  dinner  myself.  But  I  was 
here  all  the  afternoon,  and  I  couldn't  be  away  in 
the  evening,  too  ?  "  she  ended  anxiously. 

And  Roger  Carey,  listening,  said  to  himself  again, 
"  She  's  a  mighty  nice  girl."  But  he  laughed,  not 
withstanding  his  appreciation  of  her  character,  when 
Mrs.  Shore  declared  drolly,  "  Oh,  Lyssie,  your  espe 
cial  form  of  selfishness  is  unselfishness." 

"  At  least  it  is  an  unusual  form,"  Philip  said, 
smiling  ;  "  but  anything  unusual  is  very  bad,  Lys  !  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  25 

Then  the  group  about  the  table  broke  up,  and 
Alicia  said  she  must  go  home.  Cecil  reproached 
her,  and  her  brother  enticed  her,  and  Mr.  Carey  said 
that,  as  an  unprejudiced  outsider,  he  must  say  he 
thought  she  was  neglecting  her  family.  But  she 
was  charmingly  firm ;  so,  through  a  mist  of  June 
moonlight,  full  of  the  scent  of  dewy  leaves  and  blos 
soming  grass,  Philip  and  his  guest  escorted  her  to 
her  door. 

Cecil,  left  alone  upon  the  porch,  cuddled  Molly  in 
her  arms,  and  thought  how  tired  she  was,  and  how 
delightful  it  would  be  to  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  for  the  next  three  months. 

The  summer  night  fell  like  a  perfumed  curtain 
across  the  valley ;  the  dusk  had  a  certain  richness  of 
texture,  as  though  one  might  lay  one's  face  against 
it  and  feel  its  softness.  From  the  pool  below  the 
terraces  came  the  bell-like  clang  of  frogs.  Katy 
dids  answered  each  other  in  the  tulip-trees,  and  the 
shrill,  monotonous  note  of  the  cicada  rose  and  fell, 
and  rose  again.  Molly  had  fallen  asleep,  and  Cecil 
felt  the  little  limbs  relax,  and  the  head  grow  heavy 
upon  her  arm ;  she  looked  down  at  her,  and  leaned 
her  face  towards  the  child's  soft,  parted  lips  to  feel 
her  breath  upon  her  cheek ;  then  she  lifted  the 
little  limp,  warm  hand,  and  kissed  it  gently ;  but 
Molly  stirred  and  fretted,  and  her  mother  was  plainly 
relieved  when  the. nurse  came  to  take  her  to  bed. 

"  How  heavy  she  is  getting,  Rosa !  "  Mrs.  Shore 
said,  with  that  frowning  pride  common  to  mothers 
when  any  pain  comes  to  them  from  the  child's 


26  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

strength ;  and  her  eyes  followed  the  little  figure  in 
Rosa's  arms  with  a  sort  of  passionate  tenderness, 
before  she  allowed  herself  to  sink  back  into  her 
chair,  and  yawn,  and  think  that  her  arm  was  really 
stiff  from  the  child's  weight. 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  good  for  her  to  be  here,"  she  re 
flected  ;  "  the  duller  it  is,  the  better  on  her  account. 
But,  good  heavens  !  1  don't  know  how  I  am  going 
to  stand  it.  Perhaps  I  was  a  fool  not  to  have  sent 
her  to  Alicia,  and  taken  Philip  abroad  for  the 
summer  ?  " 

.  No  nicety  of  thought  prevented  Mrs.  Shore  from 
regarding  her  husband's  entire  financial  dependence 
upon  her  with  anything  but  a  crude  truthfulness ; 
but  she  was  apt  to  confound  such  dependence  with 
a  certain  silent  acquiescence  in  her  plans,  and  to 
feel  that  she  really  might  have  "  taken  "  him  abroad, 
or  that  she  had  "  brought "  him  to  Old  Chester. 

In  the  half-light  there  upon  the  old  porch,  where 
the  climbing  roses  and  the  wistaria  grew  so  thick 
about  the  pillars  that  they  made  an  almost  impene 
trable  lattice  against  the  faint  yellow  light  still  lin 
gering  in  the  west,  the  singular  and  distinguished 
beauty  of  Cecil  Shore's  face  was  less  noticeable  than 
was  that  peculiar  brutality  one  sees  sometimes  in  re 
fined  and  cultivated  faces  which  have  known  nothing 
but  ease :  faces  which  have  never  shown  eagerness, 
because  all  their  desires  are  at  hand  ;  nor  pity,  be 
cause  they  have  never  suffered  ;  nor  humility,  because 
their  tributary  world  has  made  their  sins  those  of 
omission  rather  than  of  commission. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  27 

"But  this  Mr.  Carey  is  entertaining,"  Cecil  was 
thinking,  —  "if  a  friend  of  Philip's  can  be  enter 
taining  ! "  She  sighed,  and  looked  wearily  about 
her.  "  Yes,  it  must  be  good  for  Molly,"  she  re 
peated,  as  though  for  self-encouragement.  Some 
times  the  sense  of  a  lack  of  interest  comes  over  one 
with  a  horrible  physical  sinking.  "  And  nothing 
ever  has  been  interesting  except  that  first  year  I 
was  married !  "  she  said  to  herself. 

She  was  just  thirty :  nearly  half  her  life,  perhaps, 
was  lived ;  why  in  the  world  should  another  thirty 
years  seem  so  horrible?  She  had  so  many  of  the 
conditions  which  are  supposed  to  mean  happiness. 
She  had  Molly.  "  But,  after  all,  Molly  is  not  my 
self,"  she  thought.  In  a  mother  this  keen  sense  of 
personal  identity  is  significant ;  it  was  even  con 
ceivable,  with  this  sense,  that  Cecil  Shore's  little 
daughter  might  some  time  bore  her.  As  she  lay 
back  in  her  chair,  her  face  grew  dull,  as  though  for 
very  weariness  of  her  well  being ;  and  then  a  faint 
amusement  came  into  her  eyes  at  the  remembrance 
of  her  husband's  excellence,  and  with  it  a  contemptu 
ous  impatience  of  her  own  good  humor.  For  she 
was  very  good  humored  with  Philip.  Even  Old 
Chester,  snubbed  and  shocked  and  honestly  grieved 
at  a  thousand  faults,  —  even  Old  Chester  had  to 
admit  that  she  was  very  agreeable  to  Philip.  "  She 
makes  him  very  comfortable,"  Old  Chester  said. 
"  She  is  a  good  housekeeper,  and  that  is  most  praise 
worthy.  She  gives  a  great  deal  of  thought  to  her 
food.  She  is  lazy,  but  she  trains  her  cook  herself !  " 


28  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Her  faults  were  all  obvious  enough :  —  impertinence 
to  her  elders  and  betters  ;  extravagance ;  indolence ; 
the  failure  to  bring  Molly  up  according  to  Old  Ches 
ter  traditions,  —  but,  nevertheless,  she  made  Philip 
"  very  comfortable." 

"  How  he  hates  it !  "  she  thought  to  herself,  a 
keen  humor  lighting  her  eyes.  "  He  does  n't  want 
to  be  made  comfortable.  I  think  he  would  really 
like  it  better  if  I  were  not  so  agreeable  to  him.  Oh, 
he  ought  to  have  been  a  monk,  —  he  ought  to  have 
been  a  monk !  " 


III. 


A  small  neighborhood  where  we  know  every  one,  are  known  of 
every  one,  interested  in  every  one,  and  authorized  to  hope  that  every 
one  is  interested  in  us.  —  Miss  MITFOKD. 

MRS.  DKAYTON  had  been  quite  right  in  saying 
that  Philip  was  always  properly  attentive.  His  first 
call  in  Old  Chester  was  upon  her ;  and  though  he 
was  careful  to  say  that  his  wife  had  sent  him,  with 
her  love  and  apologies  that  the  fatigue  of  the  jour 
ney  kept  her  from  coming  herself,  no  credit  was 
given  to  Cecil. 

"  Sent  him ! "  Mrs.  Drayton  said  afterwards  to 
Alicia,  aggrieved,  but  shrewd.  "As  if  I  didn't 
know  what  that  amounted  to!  She  doesn't  even 
know  he  has  been  to  see  me.  Oh,  when  I  think 
how  I  took  her  mother's  place  to  Cecil,  it  is  a  little 
bitter  to  feel  that  she  doesn't  care  for  me."  Her 
eyes  filled,  and  Lyssie  knelt  down  and  put  her  arms 
about  her  and  comforted  her,  with  that  sincere  and 
troubled  tenderness  —  love  knows  it  well  —  that 
dares  not  stop  to  think  of  truth. 

"  Ceci  was  so  tired  with  her  journey.  Of  course 
she  wants  to  see  you,  dearest,  but  —  " 

"  Oh,"  cried  Mrs.  Drayton,  "  you  don't  under 
stand.  Only  a  mother  can  understand  the  pang 
that  a  child's  ingratitude  causes.  And  Cecil  was 
always  like  my  own  child  to  me.  Did  I  ever  tell 


30  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

you  that  somebody  once  asked  Susy  Carr  which  of 
you  was  your  father's  child  by  his  first  wife  ?  Well, 
that  shows  how  I  loved  her.  And  I  'm  sure,  only 
the  other  day  I  made  you  carry  her  some  poppies. 
I  'm  always  showing  her  my  affection,  and  she  de 
spises,  despi —  And  Mrs.  Drayton  broke  down 
and  wept. 

Alicia,  very  pitiful  of  what  her  clear  eyes  told  her 
was  not  wounded  love,  but  wounded  vanity,  stayed 
in  the  darkened  room  for  an  hour,  though  she  had 
not  given  Esther  her  orders  for  the  day,  nor  picked 
the  roses,  nor  fed  her  pigeons,  nor  had  a  moment  to 
run  up  the  hill  to  see  Cecil. 

On  this  particular  occasion,  however,  in  spite  of 
Mrs.  Drayton's  insight  into  Cecil's  feelings,  her  step 
daughter  did  know  that  Philip  was  being  "  properly 
attentive."  That  morning,  as  he  and  Molly  and 
Mr.  Carey  had  started  down  to  the  village  together, 
Cecil,  standing  on  the  porch  to  see  them  off,  said 
gayly,  "  Spare  Mr.  Carey  Mrs.  Drayton,  Philip.  He 
has  done  nothing  to  deserve  Mrs.  Drayton,  I  'm 
sure.  And  make  me  as  fatigued  as  possible,  do! 
I  shall  not  be  equal  to  a  call  for  a  week." 

Molly,  hanging  on  her  father's  hand,  said  gravely, 
"Why  doesn't  mamma  like  grandmamma?"  At 
which  Roger  Carey,  under  his  breath,  said  some 
thing  about  little  pitchers,  and  Philip  laughed  in 
spite  of  himself,  but  looked  annoyed,  and  called 
Molly's  attention  to  the  fact  that  she  had  better 
pick  some  daisies  for  her  aunt  Lyssie. 

They  left  Mr.  Carey  at  his  kinswoman's  door  be- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  31 

fore  Philip  went  to  make  his  call  upon  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton.  "  Turn  up  at  the  tavern  about  twelve,  Carey," 
he  said,  "  and  we  '11  walk  back  together." 

"  Twelve !  "  thought  Mr.  Carey,  with  dismay. 
"  Must  I  stay  with  the  old  lady  until  twelve  ?  " 

Mrs.  Pendleton  was  plainly  of  the  opinion  that  he 
must,  for  she  had  many  things  to  talk  about.  She 
was  a  pretty  little  woman,  in  spite  of  the  heavy 
crape  in  which  she  was  swathed ;  her  face  was 
round  and  rosy,  and  her  light  brown  hair  waved 
down  over  a  forehead  as  smooth  as  though  she  were 
fourteen  instead  of  forty-five.  There  was  hardly  a 
wrinkle  on  her  placid  face.  Dr.  Lavendar  had  been 
heard  to  say,  in  this  connection,  that  "  thought  made 
wrinkles."  And  the  inference  was  obvious.  Yet 
the  fact  that  Mrs.  Pendleton  was  known  in  the 
world  of  letters  might  seem  to  contradict  such  an 
inference.  To  be  sure,  it  was  only  as  "Amanda 
P.,"  but  almost  every  one  who  had  seen  the  thin 
volume  of  verses  had  heard  Mrs.  Pendleton' s  modest 
acknowledgment  of  its  authorship. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  used  to  confess  whenever  she 
gave  away  a  copy  of  the  book,  "  I  suppose  it  was 
unfeminine  to  publish,  but  '  Amanda  P.'  is  not  like 
appearing  under  my  own  name.  That  I  never  could 
have  done  ;  it  would  have  been  so  unfeminine."  In 
deed,  in  Old  Chester  Mrs.  Pendleton  was  as  distin 
guished  by  her  femininity  as  by  literature.  Her 
delicate  manners  were  of  the  kind  that  used  to  be 
called  "  genteel,"  and  she  always  displayed  the  tim 
idity  and  modesty  that  are  expected  of  a  "  very 


32  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

feminine  "  female.  She  had  fainted  once  when  a 
little  mouse  ran  across  the  chancel  in  church,  and 
she  had  been  known  to  say  that  she  thought  certain 
words  in  the  service  "  most  indelicate." 

As  she  talked,  Mr.  Carey  felt  again  his  old  im 
patience  with  her,  which  he  had  forgotten,  as  he  had 
forgotten  her,  and  he  wished  he  could  intercept 
Philip  somewhere  before  the  hour  for  meeting  him 
at  the  tavern  was  up.  Mrs.  Pendleton  did,  however, 
give  him  a  good  deal  of  Old  Chester  gossip,  for 
which  he  was  not  ungrateful.  She  told  him  that 
Frances  Drayton,  Cecil  Shore's  step-mother,  was  a 
most  lovable  character,  and  Alicia  a  devoted  and  duti 
ful  daughter, "  though  not  what  you  would  call  a  clever 
girl."  That  Susan  Carr  was  quite  philanthropic  ; 
"  but,  I  must  say,  she  seems  rather  stern,  sometimes," 
Mrs.  Pendleton  said,  with  a  little  qualifying  laugh, 
and  then  she  told  him  how  Jane  Temple  had  mar 
ried  very  much  beneath  her.  Mrs.  Pendleton  had 
lived  in  Old  Chester  only  a  short  time,  but  it  was 
another  of  her  characteristics,  this  of  speaking  of 
persons  whom  she  knew  slightly  by  their  first  names. 

The  hour  was  nearly  up  when  Roger  went  away, 
saying  that  he  wanted  to  have  a  look  at  Old  Chester 
before  going  home.  He  walked  down  by  the  church, 
and  wondered  what  philosophy  Dr.  Lavendar  ex 
ploited  ;  for  plain  religion  would  scarcely  have  war 
ranted  Mrs.  Pendleton's  appreciative  remark  that 
old  Dr.  Lavendar  was  very  learned,  though  —  though 
a  little  shabby. 

It  was  a  pretty  little  church,  the  walls  all  rustling 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE,  33 

and  tremulous  with  ivy,  and  with  a  flutter  of  spar 
rows'  wings  about  the  eaves.  Philip  had  told  him 
that  Miss  Drayton  sung  in  the  choir  on  Sundays. 
"  I  Ve  a  great  mind  to  go  to  church  while  I  'm  here," 
the  young  man  reflected.  And  with  this  thought  in 
his  mind,  it  was  natural  enough  to  turn  and  walk  up 
on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  past  a  low,  white 
washed  wall  crowned  by  a  dusty  hawthorn  hedge.  It 
was  remarkable  how  often  Mr.  Roger  Carey  glanced 
over  that  hedge  at  the  white  house  behind  it.  "  Per 
haps  she  '11  happen  to  come  out,"  he  said  to  himself. 
Possibly  to  keep  such  a  chance  open  he  stopped,  and 
seemed  to  examine,  with  frowning  interest,  the  fringe 
of  grass  which  straggled  out  from  the  lawn  and  hung 
over  the  wall;  but  no  door  opened  in  the  silent, 
sunny  house,  and  no  light  step  came  down  the  path, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  walk  on.  He  wondered 
whether,  when  Mrs.  Shore  had  presented  him  to 
Miss  Drayton,  and  he  had  bowed,  and  said  nothing 
but  that  Eric  ought  to  have  a  drink,  he  had  seemed 
like  a  cub  ?  He  really  felt  a  little  anxious.  "  The 
next  time  I  see  her  I  '11  make  myself  agreeable  ;  I  '11 
make  a  pretty  speech,"  he  promised  himself,  his 
pleasant  eyes  crinkling  into  a  laugh ;  and  then  his 
whole  face  suddenly  beamed,  and  he  pulled  off  his 
hat,  for  there  was  the  lady  of  his  thoughts  before 
him.  The  barn,  connected  with  the  house  by  a  line 
of  outbuildings,  faced  the  street ;  its  double  doors 
were  open,  and  on  the  threshold,  with  the  cavernous 
dusk  behind  her,  stood  Alicia  Drayton  in  a  blue 
print  gown,  her  soft  hair  blowing  about  her  forehead, 


34  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

and  a  crowd  of  f  antail  pigeons  strutting  and  cooing 
and  tumbling  over  one  another  at  her  feet.  Lyssie 
had  a  basket  in  her  hand,  and  now  and  then  she 
threw  a  handful  of  oats  among  them ;  they  walked 
over  one  another's  pink  feet,  and  pressed  their  snowy 
breasts  so  closely  together  that  the  grain  fell  on  their 
glistening  backs  and  wings  before  it  reached  the  floor. 
Lyssie,  as  she  let  the  oats  drop  through  her  fingers, 
made  a  low  coo  in  her  throat,  or  stopped  to  admon 
ish  her  jostling  friends.  "  Don't  push  so,  Snowball. 
Puff,  you  're  rude.  There !  there 's  some  all  for 
yourself."  Then  she  looked  out  across  the  sunshine 
in  front  of  the  barn  and  saw  Mr.  Carey.  She  re 
membered  quickly  that  her  hair  was  rough,  and  she 
brushed  the  stray  locks  back  with  her  wrist,  but  she 
smiled  and  said,  "  Good-morning.  Yes,  do  !  "  when 
he  called  out  to  know  if  he  might  come  in  and  ad 
mire  her  flock. 

"  Why,  are  n't  they  tame  !  "  he  said,  as  he  took 
her  hand,  and  then  watched  the  pigeons  flutter  back 
after  their  moment's  consternation  at  his  footsteps. 
He  had  really  meant  to  look  at  Alicia,  she  made  so 
pretty  a  picture  standing  on  the  barn  floor,  with  the 
shadowy  haymow  behind  her,  and  a  dusty  line  of 
sunshine  from  the  window  in  the  roof  lying  like  a 
bar  between  them,  —  he  had  intended  to  look  at  her, 
and  perhaps  even  make  his  pretty  speech ;  but  the 
pigeons  interested  him  too  much ;  he  had  a  dozen 
questions  to  ask  about  them. 

"  Have  you  any  swifts  ?  Do  you  call  the  young 
ones  squabs  or  squalers  ?  The  sheen  on  that  one's 
neck  is  like  a  bit  of  Roman  glass !  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  35 

"  Is  it  ?  That 's  Puff.  Indeed  they  are  tame  ; 
look  here !  "  She  knelt  down  and  stretched  out  her 
hand.  "  Come,  come,  come,"  she  said,  with  the  coo 
ing  sound  in  her  throat ;  and  one  of  the  pigeons 
hopped  upon  her  finger,  clasping  it  with  his  red, 
hard  little  feet,  and  balancing  back  and  forth  with 
agitated  entreaty  to  be  careful,  the  fleeting  irides 
cence  of  his  rimpling  breast  striking  out  into  sudden 
color.  And  as  she  knelt  there,  Roger,  looking  down 
at  her,  and  seeing  the  pretty  way  her  hair  grew 
about  the  nape  of  her  white  neck,  found  the  pigeons 
less  absorbing.  Then  she  said  she  would  show  him 
something  else  that  was  pretty,  and  stepped  back 
into  the  dusky  gloom  of  the  barn  and  called  "  Fanny, 
Fanny !  Come,  Fan  !  "  There  was  a  scurry  of  un 
certain  little  hoofs  back  in  the  recesses  of  the  stable, 
and  a  bay  colt,  long-legged  and  shaggy,  with  small, 
suspicious  ears  pointed  at  the  intruder,  came  with 
hesitating  skips  to  her  side. 

"  Is  n't  she  a  beauty  ?  "  Lyssie  said.  She  had 
forgotten  all  her  embarrassment  at  her  rumpled  hair, 
and  looked  at  him  with  the  frankest,  kindest  eyes. 
Roger,  examining  the  colt's  mouth  and  stroking  its 
absurd  legs,  said  "  yes,"  and  called  her  attention  to 
several  good  points,  as  certain  of  her  appreciation  as 
if  she  had  not  been  a  girl.  Fanny's  mother  thrust 
her  serious  head  over  her  manger,  and  watched  the 
young  people,  and  the  pigeons,  and  the  long  shaft  of 
sunshine  falling  in  a  pool  on  the  rough  floor  at 
Fanny's  forefeet. 

"  She  's  named  for  my  mother,"  Alicia  explained ; 


3b  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

and  after  that  they  talked  as  easily  as  if  they  had 
known  each  other  for  years.  Philip  was  making  a 
lot  of  visits,  Mr.  Carey  told  her.  "  Yes,  he  's  been 
here  with  Molly,"  said  Alicia.  "  It 's  so  sweet  in 
Cecil  to  send  them  to  see  mother  the  first  thing ; 
Cecil  was  too  tired  to  come  herself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Carey  ;  "so  —  ah  —  she  said. 
I  went  down  to  see  the  church,  Miss  Drayton. 
Philip  says  we  can  come  and  hear  you  sing  on  Sun- 
day." 

"  Oh,  it  is  Miss  Susan  Carr  who  sings,"  Lyssie 
explained ;  "  she  has  a  beautiful  voice." 

She  looked  at  him  with  such  placid  candor  that  it 
would  have  been  absurd  to  make  a  "  pretty  speech." 
As  he  thought  it  over  afterwards,  Roger  Carey  was 
surprised  to  find  that  he  had  not  made  a  single 
pretty  speech  in  their  whole  talk  as  they  stood  there 
in  the  barn  with  Fanny  and  the  pigeons ;  perhaps  it 
would  have  come  had  the  talk  been  longer,  but 
Alicia  chanced  to  speak  of  Philip,  and  Mr.  Carey, 
conscience-stricken,  remembered  that  it  was  after 
twelve. 

"  Philip  !  "  he  said.  "  What  will  Philip  say  to 
me?  I  was  to  have  met  him  half  an  hour  ago." 
Then  he  said  good-by,  and  rushed  away.  But  his 
haste  was  unnecessary ;  Philip  had  not  yet  reached 
the  tavern;  so  he  had  to  walk  home  by  himself, 
thinking  all  the  while,  with  regret,  that  he  might 
have  stayed  a  little  longer  in  the  barn. 

The  fact  was,  his  host  had  forgotten  him.  After 
he  had  done  his  duty  in  calling  upon  his  mother-in- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  37 

law,  there  were  many  old  friends  whom  he  wanted 
to  see.  Then,  too,  he  had  to  stop  to  point  out  famil 
iar  landmarks  to  his  little  daughter,  which  took 
time. 

"  Look,  that 's  where  father  went  to  school." 

"  Is  that  where  you  used  to  draw  pictures  on  your 
slate  instead  of  doing  sums  ?  " 

Philip's  confession  would  not  have  been  approved 
by  an  educator :  "  Yes ;  it  was  a  great  deal  better 
than  doing  sums." 

After  that  they  stopped  to  buy  some  candy  at 
Tommy  Dove's.  "  I  used  to  waste  lots  of  my  al 
lowance  here  when  Mr.  Tommy's  father  kept  the 
apothecary  shop,"  Philip  said ;  and  the  purchase 
of  a  red-and-white-striped  candy  whistle,  very  stale 
and  very  strongly  flavored  with  wintergreen,  detained 
them  for  some  time ;  and  it  took  at  least  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  longer  for  her  father  to  show  Molly  how 
to  make  a  strange,  husky  noise  through  the  whistle, 
while  between  her  lips  it  was  melting  into  sticky 
sweetness. 

It  was  nearly  noon  before  they  reached  the  rec 
tory,  —  a  small,  rambling  house,  with  vines  growing 
thick  about  its  doors  and  windows.  When  they 
crossed  the  threshold,  the  visitors  took  one  step 
down  into  a  narrow  hall,  and  then  turned  sharp  to 
the  right  to  enter  Dr.  Lavendar's  study,  a  small 
room,  smelling  of  tobacco  smoke  and  leather  bind 
ings.  There  was  a  work  table,  with  a  lathe  beside 
it,  standing  in  a  flood  of  sunshine  by  a  south  win 
dow,  but  vines  darkened  the  other  windows,  and  the 


38  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.       ,   - 

book-covered  walls  filled  the  room  with  a  pleasant 
dusk.  The  old  clergyman  looked  up  from  his  ser 
mon  when  Philip  and  Molly  broke  in  upon  his  soli 
tude.  His  eyes  shone  with  pleasure ;  he  took  his 
pipe  from  his  lips,  and  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
them  without  rising. 

"  Can't  get  up,"  he  said,  frowning,  with  great 
show  of  annoyance ;  "  this  abominable  dog  has  gone 
to  sleep  with  his  head  on  my  foot !  Dogs  are  per 
fect  nuisances !  "  But  as  a  shaggy  old  Scotch  ter 
rier  rose,  yawning  and  stretching,  from  the  floor 
beside  him,  he  did  rise,  and  clapped  Philip  on  the 
shoulder,  twinkling  at  him  from  under  bushy  white 
eyebrows. 

"  Good  boy !  Good  boy  !  "  he  said.  "  And  the 
child  ?  Nice  child.  Go  and  play  in  the  garden,  my 
dear.  I  can't  remember  her  name,  Philip  ?  " 

Molly,  obedient,  and  glad  to  get  out  again  into 
the  sunshine,  would  have  stepped  from  the  open 
French  window  into  the  deep,  tangled  sweetness  of 
an  old-fashioned  garden,  but  Dr.  Lavendar  called 
her  back.  He  put  his  pipe  down  on  the  mantel 
shelf,  and  searched  slowly  in  all  the  pockets  of  his 
ancient  dressing-gown.  "  There,"  he  said,  "  there 's 
a  nickel !  Now  go."  And  Molly,  with  a  wonder 
ing  glance  at  her  father,  went. 

Dr.  Lavendar  sat  down  in  front  of  his  work  table. 
"  Back  again,  boy  ?  How  long  do  you  intend  to 
stay  ?  How 's  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Well,"  Philip  told  him  briefly ;  and  added  that 
they  should  spend  the  summer  in  Old  Chester. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  39 

"  You  did  n't  see  Joseph  in  Mercer,  as  you  came 
through  ?  Well,  never  mind  ;  he  '11  be  here  on  Sat 
urday, —  never  fails  to  come  on  Saturday.  Hi, 
there,  Danny!  Do  you  see  that  dog  getting  into 
my  armchair  ?  I  won't  have  it ;  I  '11  give  him  away. 
Daniel,  you  're  a  scoundrel."  Then  he  got  up  and 
poked  a  cushion  under  Danny's  little  old  gray  head. 

"  I  have  seen  only  two  or  three  people  beside  Mrs. 
Drayton,"  said  Philip,  —  "but  I've  seen  the  new 
inhabitant !  I  stopped  at  her  house  to  present  my 
friend,  Roger  Carey,  who  is  staying  with  me.  He 
is  a  connection  of  her  husband's." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  Ben  Pendleton's  widow  has  come  here 
to  live,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  the  eager  sweetness  of 
his  old  face  changing  suddenly.  "You  know  who 
she  is  ?  She  's  the  girl  who  broke  off  with  Joey. 
She  lived  in  Mercer  then.  That  was  twenty  years 
ago ;  but  she 's  the  same  woman,  —  the  same 
woman !  " 

"  Perhaps  she 's  had  a  change  of  heart,"  Philip 
suggested. 

"  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin  ?  "  cried  Dr. 
Lavendar  tremulously.  "  No,  no,  Philip.  She 
threw  Joey  over  for  a  rich  man.  And  she  has  a 
small  mouth.  I  will  never  trust  a  woman  with  a 
small  mouth.  Why  ?  When  you  Ve  had  more  ex 
perience  in  life,  you  '11  know  why.  Women  with 
small  mouths  think  of  nothing  but  themselves." 

"  But  if  your  brother  has  forgiven  her  —  "  Philip 
began ;  but  Dr.  Lavendar  would  not  discuss  Mrs. 
Pendleton. 


40  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  seem  irritated,"  he  said  apolo 
getically  ;  "  sometimes  I  almost  lose  my  patience  in 
speaking  of  her.  Yes,  Joe  forgave  her,  and  I  ought 
not  to  be  resentful,  I  'm  sure.  I  'm  the  gainer.  I  'd 
have  lost  him  if  she  'd  appreciated  him.  She 's  the 
kind  of  woman  who  comes  out  three  or  four  words 
bahind  the  rest  of  the  congregation  in  the  responses, 
Philip.  If  you  were  a  clergyman,  you  'd  know  what 
that  means ! "  He  pulled  his  black  silk  skullcap 
down  hard  over  his  white  hair  that  stood  up  very 
stiff  and  straight  above  his  anxious,  wrinkled  fore 
head  and  his  keen  dark  eyes.  Then  he  sighed,  and 
said,  with  a  little  effort,  "  Look  here,  I  've  some 
thing  to  show  you." 

He  turned  his  swivel  chair  round  a  little,  and  be 
gan  to  fumble  at  the  lock  of  a  drawer  in  his  table. 
"  I  always  keep  the  key  in  the  lock,"  he  said,  chuck 
ling.  "  If  I  did  n't,  I  should  lose  it  twenty  times  a 
day !  "  He  pulled  the  drawer  open,  and  took  out 
some  small  packages  of  soft  white  tissue  paper ;  he 
unfolded  them  with  eager  haste,  his  lips  opening  and 
closing  with  interest. 

"  Look  at  that !  "  he  said,  and  spread  on  his  thin 
palm  a  dozen  small,  glittering  stones.  "  They  are 
hyacinths.  Joey  got  'em  for  me.  Look  at  this 
one."  He  took  a  single  stone  up  in  his  pinchers, 
and  held  it  between  Philip  and  the  light.  "  Some 
time,  Philip,  when  you  are  a  rich  man,  you  shall 
give  me  a  diamond  to  cut  ?  " 

"  You  shall  have  it,  sir,"  Philip  assured  him ; 
"  but  I  'm  afraid  I  '11  never  be  a  rich  man.  How 
does  the  book  come  011,  Dr.  Lavendar  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  41 

The  old  clergyman  shook  his  head.  "Fairly, 
Philip,  fairly ;  I  think  it  will  be  done  in  about  three 
years.  You  see,  The  History  of  Precious  Stones 
cannot  be  written  in  a  day.  (That's  the  title, — 
The  History  of  Precious  Stones.  Don't  you  think 
that  is  a  good  title  ?)  No,  it  can't  be  written  in  a 
day.  It  is  the  histo^  of  the  human  race,  when  you 
come  to  think  of  it.  And  that's  a  large  subject, 
sir,  a  large  subject.  You  see,  there  are  so  many  dis- 
cursions  from  the  main  subject  necessary,  —  sub- 
subjects,  as  it  were.  Take,  for  instance,  the  story 
of  the  emerald  of  Artabanus ;  of  course  that  brings 
up  his  wife,  and  she  at  once  recalls  to  the  thought 
ful  reader  the  incident  of  her  father  and  his  general. 
Or  say  rubies :  one  is  reminded  of  the  dancer  who 
lost  his  bride  because  Clisthenes  objected  that  he 
'gesticulated  with  his  legs.'  You  remember  the 
story  of  the  ruby  there,  of  course,  Philip  ?  " 

Philip  was  prudently  silent. 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  will  certainly  be  three  years  be 
fore  the  book  is  finished.  Then  I  '11  rewrite  it  and 
polish  it.  I  've  no  patience  with  those  crude  writers 
who  don't  polish.  Books  are  like  sapphires;  they 
must  be  polished  —  polished !  or  else  you  insult 
your  readers." 

"  It  will  be  a  very  valuable  book,  I  've  no  doubt, 
sir." 

"Why,  certainly,"  Dr.  Lavendar  agreed,  rather 
curtly  (the  young  man's  observation  seemed  trite)  ; 
"  of  course  it  will  be  valuable.  It  gives  me  pleasure 
to  feel  that  I  am  going  to  be  able  to  leave  Joey  a 


42  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

snug  little  sum ;  he  '11  have  a  regular  income  from 
The  History  of  Precious  Stones,  when  I  'm  dead  and 
gone,  sir." 

Philip,  suppressing  any  astonishment  he  might 
have  felt  at  the  profits  of  literature,  examined  an 
amethyst  of  very  beautiful  color,  while  Dr.  Lavendar 
explained  that  all  his  stones  were  cheap.  "  Joey 
can't  afford  valuable  stones,"  he  said;  "but  for 
beauty,  what  is  more  beautiful  than  those  drops  of 
immortal,  unchangeable  light  ?  Look  here  !  "  He 
rummaged  in  another  drawer,  and  found  a  cracked 
china  cup,  half  full  of  small,  roughly  cut  stones. 
"  Topazes,  garnets,  green  garnets,  —  look !  "  He 
took  up  a  handful  of  them,  and,  standing  in  the 
stream  of  sunshine  from  the  deep  window,  let  them 
slip  by  twos  and  threes  between  his  fingers,  a  flash 
ing  drip  of  color. 

Philip  went  away,  smiling  and  sighing. 

"  What  do  you  breathe  such  long  breaths  for, 
father  ?  "  said  Molly  ;  and  he  turned  his  sigh  into  a 
laugh,  and  said  he  was  thinking  it  was  pretty  nice  to 
live  in  Old  Chester. 

"  Everybody  's  so  happy,  Polly,"  he  explained. 

"  But  why  do  they  all  fuss  so  ?  "  Molly  inquired 
gravely  ;  and  when  he  bade  her  remember  that  little 
girls  did  not  know  enough  to  talk  about  grown  per 
sons,  she  looked  up  at  him  and  made  her  small  ex 
cuse  with  puzzled  face.  "  But  mamma  said  so. 
Mamma  said  that  everybody  here  was  awfully  fussy, 
and  they  bored  her  to  death." 

Her  father  was  too  busy  pointing  out  a  martin- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  43 

house  in  the  fork  of  an  oak  to  make  any  comment  on 
"  mammars  "  views,  and  she  did  not  look  up  to  see 
the  irritation  in  his  face.  She  went  springing  along 
by  his  side  over  the  short  pasture  turf,  in  search  of 
Miss  Susan  Carr,  who  was,  they  were  told,  looking 
after  some  late  planting  on  her  farm.  They  crossed 
a  brook,  that  went  bubbling  between  green  banks, 
making  whirling  loops  of  foam  about  the  larger 
stones  in  its  path ;  a  cow,  standing  ankle-deep  in  its 
shallow  rush,  sighed,  as  they  passed  her,  in  calm  and 
fragrant  meditation.  Old  Chester  was  behind  them, 
and  high  up  on  a  hillside  on  the  left  the  balconied 
roof  of  Cecil  Shore's  house  gleamed  whitely  above 
the  treetops. 

"  Oh,  father,"  said  MoUy,  "  can't  I  take  off  my 
shoes  and  stockings,  and  wade  ?  " 

Philip,  nothing  loath  to  light  a  cigar  and  sit  in 
the  sun,  said,  "  Yes,  by  all  means  !  Miss  Susan  has 
to  cross  this  field  to  get  home,  so  we  '11  wait  for  her 
here." 

He  stretched  himself  out  lazily  under  a  beech,  and 
with  half -shut  eyes  watched,  through  the  cigar  smoke, 
the  child  holding  her  skirts  well  up  out  of  the  water, 
gripping  the  slippery  stones  with  little  bare  white 
feet,  and  balancing  herself  in  all  the  delightful  ex 
citement  of  a  possible  tumble.  The  beech  leaves 
moved  and  whispered  in  a  fresh  breeze,  and  the 
brook  kept  up  a  low  argument  broken  into  chattering 
bursts  ;  the  sun  shone  warm  on  the  green  slope  of 
the  field,  and  far  off,  behind  the  hills,  great  shining 
clouds  were  piled  against  the  placid  blue,  like  the 


44  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

white  domes  of  some  celestial  city.  A  man  could 
forget  the  harshness  of  living,  in  such  warm  peace. 
Philip  was  almost  sorry  when  Miss  Susan  Carr's 
cordial,  strident  voice  hailed  him  with  affection  and 
surprise.  She  came  towards  him,  all  unconscious  of 
her  heavy,  muddy  boots  and  her  hot,  red  face. 

"  My  dear  Philip  !  My  dear  boy  !  "  she  said,  her 
kind,  near-sighted  brown  eyes  dimmed  with  pleasure. 
And  then  she  kissed  him  heartily,  and  asked  a  dozen 
questions  about  his  health  and  his  concerns,  and 
hugged  Molly,  and  said  she  hoped  Cecil  was  well. 
She  stood  there  in  her  short  linsey-woolsey  skirt  and 
loose,  baggy  jacket,  one  hand  on  her  hip,  looking  at 
him  with  those  quick,  anxious  glances  which,  to  be 
sure,  do  not  see  very  deeply  into  a  man's  soul,  but 
are  full  of  that  mother  comfort  that  often  speaks  in 
the  faces  of  childless  women.  Philip's  affection  an 
swered  her  in  his  words  and  eyes.  He  and  Molly 
went  home  with  her ;  and  Molly  had  a  cake,  and 
went  to  visit  the  kittens  in  company  with  Miss 
Susan's  old  Ellen  ;  and  Philip  drank  a  glass  of  wine, 
and  Miss  Susan  talked  and  beamed.  She  gossiped, 
like  all  the  rest  of  Old  Chester ;  but  by  some  mys 
terious  method,  Susan  Carr's  gossip  gave  the  listener 
a  gentler  feeling  towards  his  kind.  When  she  spoke 
of  her  neighbors'  faults,  one  knew  that  somehow  they 
were  simply  virtues  gone  to  seed  ;  and  what  was  more 
remarkable,  her  praise  had  no  sting  of  insinuation  in 
it,  no  suggestion  that  she  could  speak  differently  if 
she  chose.  Susan  Carr's  heart  was  sound  and  sweet ; 
she  seemed  to  have  brought  from  her  fields  and  pas- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  45 

tures  the  courage  of  the  winds  and  sunshine,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  steadfast  earth.  Her  face  was  as  fresh 
as  an  autumn  morning ;  her  nut-brown  hair,  with  a 
large,  soft  wave  on  either  side  of  the  parting,  had  not 
a  thread  of  gray,  though  she  was  quite  forty-five ;  on 
her  cheek  there  was  the  glow  that  a  russet  apple  has 
on  the  side  nearest  the  sun,  and  her  dark  eyes  crin 
kled  into  laughter  as  easily  as  they  had  done  at 
twenty.  She  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  Philip,  and 
all  in  a  loud,  breezy,  vibrating  voice,  full  of  eager 
and  friendly  confidence  in  his  interest.  She  told  him 
that  Lyssie  was  the  dearest  child  in  the  world,  "  and 
devoted  to  Frances,"  she  declared.  "  Of  course  she 
has  n't  Cecil's  looks ;  but  she 's  such  a  pleasant  girl, 
and  such  a  good  child,  too."  She  had  a  good  word 
for  Mrs.  Pendleton,  though  there  was  a  little  effort 
in  her  voice.  She  laughed  good  naturedly  about  the 
Lavendars.  "  Yes,  the  dear  old  doctor  still  preaches 
on  the  Walls  of  the  New  Jerusalem.  He  is  wonder 
fully  learned,  Philip,  about  precious  stones  ;  and  I 
don't  mind  hearing  about  jacinth  and  chrysoprase 
and  all  those ;  it 's  really  interesting.  And  it  is 
about  heaven,  too,"  she  added  reverently. 

"  I  suppose  you  and  Lyssie  do  a  good  deal  of  his 
parish  work  for  him  ?  "  Philip  said,  lounging  up 
and  down  the  room,  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  "  How 
familiar  everything  looks,  Miss  Susan  !  How  well  I 
remember  the  first  time  I  came  into  this  room  with 
uncle  Donald !  " 

"  Do  you?  "  she  said,  her  face  softening.  "  How 
proud  he  was  of  you,  Philip !  Well,  yes,  Lyssie 

><" 


46  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE, 

and  I  help  the  doctor  sometimes.  He 's  getting  old, 
dear  old  man.  But  he  won't  spare  himself.  Care 
less  as  he  is  in  his  dress  and  about  small  things,  in 
his  work  he 's  as  exact  and  as  punctual !  Dear  me, 
I  wish  the  rest  of  us  were  half  so  methodical.  You 
can't  make  him  remember  to  order  Jones  to  clip  the 
hedge  by  the  church,  or  to  tell  his  Mary  to  mend  his 
surplice  ;  but  if  he  has  promised  to  see  a  poor  soul 
at  the  upper  village,  he  's  there  on  the  minute ;  or  if 
he  thinks  Job  Todd  has  been  drinking,  he  's  sure  to 
call  just  at  the  time  he  gets  home  from  the  shop,  so 
as  to  keep  him  from  abusing  Eliza." 

Philip,  listening  and  smiling,  said  "  yes  "  or  "  no  " 
as  Miss  Susan  seemed  to  expect ;  but  he  paid  sudden 
attention  when,  in  speaking  again  of  Alicia,  she 
referred  incidentally  to  Eliza  Todd's  unhappiness. 
Miss  Susan  did  not  speak  of  Eliza  as  a  "  case,"  and 
the  absence  of  that  objectionable  word  was  sweet  to 
Philip's  ears. 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Susan  said,  "  Lyssie  is  really  very 
useful  in  parish  work.  The  way  she  has  induced 
Eliza  to  stay  with  Job,  when  I  was  ready  to  give  it 
up  and  let  her  go,  is  quite  remarkable.  Of  course, 
there  are  matters  that  Lyssie  can't  help  us  in  ;  for 
instance,  that  poor  Ettie  Brown  and  her  baby.  You 
remember  you  sent  me  some  money  for  her,  Philip  ?  " 

"  Cecil  sent  it,"  he  corrected  her  ;  "  I  am  only  her 
almoner." 

"  It 's  the  same  thing,"  said  Miss  Susan,  with  that 
positiveness  which  confesses  an  unwillingness  to 
acknowledge  what  is  painful;  "it's just  the  same. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  47 

Well,  it  would  n't  have  been  proper  to  have  had 
Lyssie  have  anything  to  do  with  that ;  but  she 's  in 
valuable  in  most  things,  and  it  's  wonderful  how  she 
has  kept  Eliza  to  her  duty." 

"  Her  duty  ?  "  cried  Philip  sharply.  "  Do  you 
call  it  duty  ?  "  The  worn  lines  in  his  face  deepened 
suddenly  as  he  spoke.  "  Why,  Miss  Susan,  a  thou 
sand  times  better  let  Lyssie  help  the  poor  girl  than 
meddle  in  the  unspeakable  viciousness  of  -  "he 
seemed  to  try  to  shake  off  his  sudden  earnestness  — 
"  I  mean  have  any  hand  in  keeping  two  people  to 
gether  who  don't  love  each  other." 

"  Why,  but,  my  dear  Philip  !  "  said  Miss  Susan, 
aghast. 

But  Philip  offered  no  explanation  ;  he  looked  an^- 
noyed  at  himself,  and  said  he  must  call  Molly  and 
go  home. 

"  I  've  forgotten  all  about  Carey ;  I  was  to  meet 
him  at  the  Tavern.  He  's  one  of  the  Mercer  Careys, 
you  know  ;  he 's  staying  with  me.  I  'm  going  to 
bring  him  to  call." 

Miss  Susan  was  so  bewildered  by  Philip's  extraor 
dinary  view  of  what  was  proper  for  Lyssie  that  she 
made  no  protest  at  his  departure  ;  but  her  confused 
look  changed  abruptly  when,  with  his  hand  upon  the 
door,  he  made  some  careless,  friendly  comment  upon 
Joseph  Lavendar. 

"  He  still  plays  at  the  morning  service,  I  suppose  ? 
What  a  grave,  splendid  touch  he  has !  "  And  then 
he  went  away. 

"  Oh  my  !  "  said   Susan  Carr.     "  I  'd  almost  for- 


48  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

gotten  it.  Oh  dear  !  "  She  sighed,  and  sat  down 
as  though  suddenly  tired.  She  sat  as  a  man  might, 
leaning  forward,  her  clasped  hands  between  her 
knees,  and  staring  with  an  absent  frown  at  her  heavy 
boots ;  then  she  seemed  to  realize  her  masculine  atti 
tude,  and  drew  herself  together  with  an  effort  to 
achieve  some  feminine  grace.  There  was  something 
pathetic  in  the^constant  endeavor  of  this  gentle,  ro 
bust  woman,  whose  occupation  had  made  her  clumsy, 
to  express  in  her  body  the  very  genuine  and  delicate 
femininity  of  her  soul.  "Though  I  never  can  be 
silly,"  she  had  long  ago  admitted  sadly  to  herself. 

The  worried  look  which  Philip's  allusion  to  Mr. 
Joseph  Lavendar  had  brought  into  her  face  deepened, 
as  she  sat  there  frowning  and  tapping  her  foot  upon 
the  floor.  After  a  while  she  rose,  and  tramped  up 
and  down  the  room,  with  her  hands  behind  her,  ab 
sorbed  in  thought.  Then  she  stopped  before  a  big, 
old-fashioned  writing-desk,  littered  with  farming  pa 
pers,  and  with  packages  of  vegetable  seeds  overflow 
ing  from  crowded  pigeon-holes  ;  accounts  and  mem 
oranda  and  ledgers  lent  it  a  most  businesslike  and 
unfeminine  look.  Miss  Susan  took  a  letter  from 
a  little  drawer,  and  read  it,  standing  up,  twisting 
her  lip  absently  between  her  thumb  and  forefinger. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  SUSAN,  —  I  have  found  a  very 
good  Te  Deum  in  C.  I  send  it  with  this.  Will 
you  be  so  good  as  to  look  it  over,  so  that  we  can  try 
it  on  Saturday  ? 

Very  truly  yours,         JOSEPH  LAVENDAR. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  49 

P.  S.  May  I  add,  although  the  somewhat  business 
like  tenor  of  my  letter  might  seem  to  preclude  the 
mention  of  tenderer  sentiments,  that  I  have  long  de 
sired  to  address  you  upon  the  subject  of  my  af 
fections  ?  Delicacy  only  has  restrained  my  pen  or 
lips,  and  also  the  doubt  (proper  to  a  gentleman)  of 
my  own  worthiness.  But  I  cannot  longer  remain  si 
lent.  I  feel  that  the  time  has  come  when  I  must 
beg  your  amiable  and  ever  ready  sympathy  and  kind 
ness, —  for  I  believe  that  my  future  lies  in  your 
hands  ;  with  your  help,  I  venture  to  hope  that  I  may 
become  the  happiest  of  men.  I  am  sure  that  my 
brother  has  a  warmer  regard  for  you  than  for  any 
one  else  whom  I  might  mention,  and  your  sympathy 
with  my  suit  will  mean  very  much  to  him.  May  I 
beg  that  you  will  think  this  over,  and  let  me  have  an 
opportunity  for  free  discourse  upon  the  subject  ? 
Yrs.  tr.  J.  L. 

"  I  never  encouraged  him,"  said  Susan  Carr. 
"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,  for  I  like  him  so  much  !  " 

She  put  her  hands  behind  her,  and  began  again  to 
pace  up  and  down  the  room.  Philip's  coming  and  this 
letter  made  her  think  of  his  uncle,  Donald  Shore. 
She  and  Donald  were  to  have  been  married,  but 
Philip  came  into  his  uncle's  life,  an  orphan  nephew, 
whose  support  was  so  much  of  a  consideration  that 
the  quiet,  prudent  Donald  felt  it  necessary  to  put  the 
wedding  off  a  year,  and  then  two  years,  and  after 
that  another  year.  Then  the  postponement  of  eter 
nity  came  between  them,  and  Donald  died.  Susan 


50  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Carr  had  felt  no  bitterness  towards  Philip.  She 
loved  him,  at  first  because  he  was  Donald's  nephew, 
and  then  for  his  own  sake.  Indeed,  even  while  he 
postponed  her  marriage,  he  made  another  tie  between 
herself  and  her  slow  and  sober  lover,  whose  affection 
for  his  nephew  seemed  to  reconcile  him  to  the  delay 
in  winning  the  hand  of  his  "  admirable  Susan,"  as 
he  called  her.  When  he  died,  she  felt  as  though 
Philip  belonged  to  her :  it  was  she  who  made  it  pos 
sible  for  him  to  go  abroad  and  study  when  he  had 
finished  college ;  she  who  rejoiced  with  practical 
good  sense  when  he  married  Cecil  Drayton,  who  had 
plenty  of  money ;  and  she  who  watched  the  unsatis 
fied,  disappointed  look  deepening  in  his  eyes,  with 
the  pang  that  his  mother  would  have  felt,  had  she 
lived.  And  through  all  these  years  the  old  love 
for  Philip's  uncle  lay  fragrant  in  her  heart.  But 
now  came  this  letter  from  Joseph  Lavendar. 

"  It 's  out  of  the  question,"  said  Miss  Carr,  read 
ing  it  over  again,  the  color  deepening  in  her  cheeks. 
"  And  it 's  too  bad,  for  I  do  like  him  so.  Well,  I 
won't  give  him  '  an  opportunity '  !  That  is  the  only 
kind  thing  I  can  do." 


IV. 

No  deeply  rooted  tendency  was  ever  extirpated  by  adverse  argu 
ment.  —  G.  H.  LEWES. 

DR.  LAVENDAR  always  said  that  his  brother 
Joseph  lived  with  him;  but  the  fact  was,  Mr.  Jo 
seph  Lavendar  could  spend  only  his  Sundays  at  the 
rectory.  He  used  to  come  down  from  Mercer  on 
the  Saturday  morning  stage,  but  he  traveled  back 
again  on  Monday  morning  to  his  music-teaching. 
"  My  profession  takes  me  away  from  home  during 
the  week,"  he  used  to  explain.  That  one  day  with 
his  brother  really  made  a  home  for  this  simple,  hon 
est  gentleman,  whose  occupation  was  to  drill  short- 
petticoated  misses  in  their  scales. 

But  although  Mr.  Lavendar  came  to  Old  Chester 
only  to  spend  Sundays,  the  village,  quite  as  much 
as  his  brother  or  himself,  would  have  resented  the 
suggestion  that  his  home  was  not  at  the  rectory ;  for 
everybody  loved  Joseph  Lavendar.  To  be  sure,  he 
was  something  of  an  exquisite,  which  is  not  usually 
endearing:  his  suit  of  brown  broadcloth  was  im 
maculate,  his  linen  spotless,  his  shoes  knew  the  polish 
of  his  brother's  precious  stones ;  indeed,  he  had  more 
than  once  been  seen  to  brush  a  speck  of  dust  from 
them  with  his  pocket  handkerchief.  But,  though 
finical  about  himself,  he  was  tolerant  of  other  peo 
ple's  dusty  shoes,  to  speak  generically,  and  such 


52  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

tolerance  is  always  endearing.  Besides,  the  eager 
kindliness  of  his  face  was  irresistible ;  his  mild, 
somewhat  prominent  blue  eyes  were  without  a 
shadow  of  suspicion  of  any  of  the  human  race ;  his 
bald,  high  forehead,  with  little  tufts  of  reddish  hair" 
above  each  ear,  was  forever  wrinkling  with  sympa 
thy  for  somebody  else.  It  was  nothing  more  than 
sympathy,  for  he  never  dared  to  offer  advice  ;  it 
being  his  instinct  to  believe  that  other  people 
knew  more  than  he  did.  He  accepted,  joyously  and 
gratefully,  the  opinions  of  his  friends,  especially  his 
brother's*  opinion,  for  Dr.  Lavendar's  judgment  was 
quite  ultimate  with  Mr.  Joseph,  —  except,  indeed, 
when  he  disapproved  of  people.  Then,  almost  al 
ways  Mr.  Lavendar  acquired  an  opinion  of  his  own, 
and  ventured  to  differ.  He  did  it  in  an  apologetic, 
deprecating,  timid  way,  but  he  differed.  It  seemed 
as  though  he  were  constitutionally  obliged  to  take 
the  side  of  the  under  dog. 

It  was  this  amiable  and  unreasoning  tendency 
which  brought  the  first  note  of  discord  into  the 
friendship  of  the  two  brothers. 

Mrs.  Pendleton  came  to  live  in  Old  Chester ;  and 
Dr.  Lavendar,  who  had  quite  forgotten  her  in  these 
twenty  tranquil  years  since  she  "threw  Joey  over,'' 
suddenly  found  that  he  had  not  forgiven  her.  And 
certainly,  the  poor  lady,  with  the  bes^  intentions  in 
the  world,  did  not  endear  herself.  The  fervency  of 
her  responses  in  church  distracted  the  old  cler 
gyman  from  his  own  devotions ;  her  foolish  bene 
volences  amazed  him  ;  her  efforts  —  those  pitiful 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  53 

efforts  of  the  outsider  to  seem  on  terms  of  intimacy 
with  recently  acquired  acquaintances,  efforts  which 
are  betrayed  by  speaking  of  comparative  strangers  by 
their  first  names  —  seemed  to  him  only  the  unpar 
donable  vulgarity  which  indeed  they  are.  When  she 
said  "  Susy "  Carr  behind  Miss  Susan's  back,  Dr. 
Lavendar  winced  ;  and  when  she  spoke  of  "  Jane  " 
and  "  Tommy,"  he  took  immediate  occasion  to  refer 
to  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Dove.  Poor  Mrs.  Pendleton  meant 
well,  and  in  truth  there  was  nothing  upon  which  Dr. 
Lavendar  could  put  his  finger  as  his  special  reason 
for  disliking  her.  Perhaps  that  was  rather  an  aggrava 
tion  in  itself  ;  our  sentiments  toward  "  Dr.  Fell "  are 
probably  heightened  just  because  we  "  cannot  tell." 

But  it  was  in  connection  with  Mrs.  Pendleton 
that  Mr.  Laveiidar's  constitutional  tendency  began 
to  threaten  the  life  of  mutual  admiration  in  the  rec 
tory.  Mr.  Joseph  did  no  more  than  speak  well  of 
the  little  widow.  He,  too,  had  almost  forgotten  her, 
and  he  had  quite  forgiven  her  ;  but,  spurred  on  by 
Dr.  Lavendar' s  dislike  for  her,  he  hunted  in  his  mem 
ory  for  her  good  qualities,  that  he  might  defend  her 
to  his  brother.  No  doubt  the  reviving  remembrance 
of  the  pain  she  had  made  him  suffer  so  long  ago 
added  to  the  warmth  of  his  defense ;  which,  to  be 
sure,  was  eloquent  in  intention  rather  than  in  words, 
for  he  only  protested,  timidly,  that  he  thought  Mrs. 
Pendleton  an  exceedingly  pleasing  person.  But  that 
his  discernment,  his  judgment,  his  taste,  should  be 
so  at  fault  confounded  and  irritated  Dr.  Lavendar. 

It  would  be  as  incredible   as  it   is    amusing,  if 


54  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

only  all  the  world  did  not  know  it  to  be  true,  that 
a  difference  in  taste  can  be  absolutely  disastrous  to 
friendship,  and  even  to  love.  The  absurd  unhappi- 
ness  begins  at  the  moment  when  it  becomes  plain 
to  each  friend  that  the  other  ought  to  be  convinced. 
What  starts  as  a  matter  of  opinion  deepens  into  a 
question  of  principle. 

This  point  had  been  reached  by  the  two  brothers. 
It  was  a  long  time  since  the  amiable  routine  of 
Joseph  Lavendar's  thought  had  been  so  broken  in 
upon  as  by  his  brother's  injustice  to  Mrs.  Pendleton. 
Never  before  had  Dr.  Lavendar's  indulgent  admira 
tion  for  Joseph's  unreasonable  good  nature  been 
shocked  into  a  suspicious  doubt  of  Mr.  Lavendar's 
intelligence.  Each  brother  had  been  amused  at 
first,  and  then  amazed ;  and  now  each  had  become 
almost  indignant. 

"  But,  brother  James,"  Joseph  would  say,  his 
mild,  prominent  eyes  full  of  reproachful  anxiety, 
uyou  don't  seem  to  be  fair  to  the  lady.  It  isn't 
like  you  not  to  be  fair." 

Even  Dr.  Lavendar  saw  the  humor  of  that. 
"  Ho !  "  he  said,  and  grinned  a  little.  "  Well,  per 
haps  I  'm  not  always  fair,  Joey ;  but  I  'm  never 
prejudiced ;  and  I  have  a  memory,  sir !  " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  what  you  mean ;  but  that  was 
twenty  years  ago,  my  dear  Jim,  and  it  was  entirely 
my  fault.  She  is  a  lady  of  great  kindness,  and  — 

But  Dr.  Lavendar  would  fling  out  impatiently 
that  Joey  did  not  know  what  he  was  talking  about ! 

"Kind?     Well,  yes,  she   has   a   good  word   for 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  55 

everybody.  I  think  she  'd  speak  well  of  the  devil. 
I  don't  call  that  'kindness,'  Joey.  I  call  it  silli 
ness  ;  silliness,  sir,  for  the  devil  does  n't  deserve  a 
good  word.  You  speak  up  for  her  as  if  you  were 
going  to  —  to  marry  her!  "  Dr.  Lavendar  had  cried 
once,  sawing  the  air  with  his  pipe,  and  searching 
for  the  most  preposterous  illustration  he  could  find. 

"  Marry  —  her  ?  I  never  —  why,  I  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing,"  stammered  the  younger  brother, 
his  high  forehead  growing  faintly  red.  "  I  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing." 

"  Well,  well ;  there  !  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said 
Dr.  Lavendar.  "  I  may  have  seemed  irritated,  but 
not  at  all,  not  at  all.  I  was  merely  emphatic.  I 
can't  help  being  amazed  at  your  lack  of  intelli 
gence.  An  unintelligent  person  distresses  me  ;  and 
you  ought  surely  to  be  able  to  see,  Joey,  that  she  — 

And  so  they  argued  on ;  each  convinced  that  he 
was  right,  and  each  sincerely  troubled  at  the  attitude 
of  the  other.  Again  and  again,  Mr.  Joseph,  with 
timid  and  anxious  persistence,  suggested  that  Dr. 
Lavendar  should  show  more  marked  kindness  to 
Mrs.  Pendleton,  because  she  was  a  stranger  and  — 
and  his  friend.  Again  and  again,  Dr.  Lavendar 
asserted  that  he  would  do  his  duty  as  her  clergyman, 
but  nothing  more,  because  he  did  not  like  her,  and 
he  saw  no  reason  why  his  private  opinions  should  be 
at  the  mercy  of  his  official  duties.  "  I  '11  call  twice 
a  year,  or  I  '11  bury  her,  cheerfully,  —  that 's  my 
duty ;  but  I  won't  pretend  that  she  's  a  personal 
friend  when  she  is  n't !  "  he  would  insist. 


56  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

It  was  in  the  winter  that  he  had  used  the  extraor 
dinary  illustration  of  marriage  as  a  means  of  show 
ing  his  brother  how  unreasonably  far  his  defense  of 
the  little  widow  had  gone.  Until  he  said  it  himself, 
Dr.  Lavendar  had  really  never  thought  of  anything 
so  bad  as  that ;  yet,  even  as  he  used  it,  the  illustra 
tion  became  a  possibility  to  him,  and  he  realized  in 
a  flash  that  defense,  if  persisted  in,  will  create  a  cer 
tain  tenderness  in  the  defender  for  the  defended. 
All  through  the  spring  his  own  suggestion  rankled 
in  his  mind.  "  But  no,"  he  would  assure  himself, 
"  Joey  has  too  much  sense.  It 's  only  his  ridiculous 
amiability."  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  Joey, 
too,  might  brood  upon  that  sarcastic  suggestion,  un 
til  the  acceptance  of  it  would  seem  natural  and  even 
chivalrous,  and  not  sarcastic  at  all.  By  midsummer, 
Mrs.  Pendleton,  or  rather  their  disagreement  about 
her,  was  actually  marring  the  brothers'  Sundays  to 
such  a  degree  that  each  secretly  found  Monday,  and 
Joseph's  departure,  a  relief. 

Dr.  Lavendar  was  the  first  to  recognize  this,  and 
it  sobered  him  into  momentary  indifference  to  the 
object  of  their  dispute.  "  Joey  and  I  fall  out !  "  he 
said  to  himself,  dismayed  and  almost  frightened. 
"  Joey  and  I  quarrel  about  that  foolish  woman ! 
What  nonsense !  We  '11  just  drop  the  subject." 
Was  there  ever  a  disagreement  in  a  matter  of  opin 
ion  which  was  not  broken  into  chapters,  as  it  were, 
by  this  determination  to  "  drop  the  subject"? 

The  next  Saturday,  when  Mr.  Joseph  climbed 
carefully  down  from  the  stage,  and  carried  his  car- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  57 

pet  bag  into  the  little  hall  in  the  rectory,  Dr.  Lav- 
endar  was  saying  to  himself  that  he  and  Joey  must 
not  get  into  any  more  discussions  about  that  person ! 
Oddly  enough,  Mr.  Lavendar,  too,  had  determined 
to  drop  the  subject,  and,  with  this  end  in  view,  sub 
stituted  another. 

"  My  dear  Jim,"  he  said,  "  I  have  found  a  very 
admirable  garnet.  I  saw  it  at  Soomby's,  and  got  it 
for  a  song,  a  mere  song.  But  it  needs  a  good  deal 
of  polishing."  Mr.  Lavendar  pulled  open  a  little 
leather  pouch,  the  mouth  of  which  was  gathered  011 
a  string  ;  he  carried  his  notes  in  this,  each  carefully 
rolled  up  like  a  lamplighter  and  folded  four  times  ; 
he  shook  out  of  it,  carefully,  a  wad  of  tissue  paper. 
Dr.  Lavendar,  pleased  and  eager,  bent  his  thin  old 
hand  into  a  cup  to  hold  the  stone. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  wants  a  bit  of  cutting,  a  bit  of  polish 
ing.  Joey,  you  are  an  extravagant  dog!  How 
much  did  this  cost  you,  sir?  I  saw  young  Shore 
yesterday.  (Yes,  they  're  here.  Came  Thursday.) 
I  told  him  he  had  got  to  give  me  a  diamond  when 
he  gets  rich.  He  says  he  '11  never  be  rich.  Very 
likely  not.  A  man  with  a  rich  wife  is  a  pretty  pov 
erty-stricken  fellow,  sometimes.  I  heard  that  she 
once  sent  her  check  for  his  club  dues  ;  think  of 
that !  " 

"  Poor  boy ! "  said  Mr.  Lavendar,  his  face  wrink 
ling  with  pity.  Mr.  Lavendar's  face  showed  his 
emotions  as  a  little  sheet  of  placid  water  shows  the 
wind.  "  But  I  'm  told  she  's  a  good  housekeeper  ?  " 
he  defended  her. 


58  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Yes,"  Dr.  Lavendar  agreed ;  "  as  far  as  the 
bread  which  perisheth  goes,  the  boy  's  well  fed.  But 
that 's  not  enough,  Joe  ?  " 

"  No,  that  's  not  enough,  Jim,"  said  the  other  ; 
and  then  they  went  out,  as  they  always  did  on  sum 
mer  Saturday  afternoons,  to  make,  arm  in  arm,  with 
Danny  at  their  heels,  the  tour  of  the  garden  behind 
the  rectory. 

"  The  hollyhocks  are  not  looking  as  thrifty  as  they 
did  last  year,"  Joseph  observed,  with  concern. 

"  They  've  never  done  so  well  as  they  did  eight 
years  ago,  —  no,  nine ;  it  was  the  summer  Philip 
and  Cecilia  were  married.  Joey,  how  many  pears  do 
you  suppose  there  are  on  that  little  jargonelle  ?  I 
counted  'em  last  night." 

The  two  brothers  went  across  the  deep  soft  tangle 
of  the  grass,  and  stood  under  the  pear-tree.  "It 
has  twenty-seven  pears,  Joe !  " 

"  I  thought  I  saw  twenty-nine,"  Mr.  Joseph  said 
mildly,  after  a  moment's  pause  to  count  the  still 
green  fruit ;  "  but  no  doubt  I  was  mistaken." 

After  that,  as  they  went  down  a  little  brick  path, 
past  the  honey-locust  hedge  and  the  big  laburnum 
bush,  over  to  the  south  wall  where  the  two  beehives 
stood,  Mr.  Lavendar  told,  as  usual,  the  little  de 
tails  of  his  week's  work.  .Dr.  Lavendar  knew  the 
names  of  the  pupils,  though  he  had  never  seen  them, 
and  he  had  his  questions  to  ask  and  his  comments  to 
make  ;  then  he  told  Joseph  all  the  Old  Chester  news. 
But  both  were  conscious  of  an  effort;  each  was 
aware  that  the  other  disapproved  of  him,  and  that 
made  a  strange,  intangible  barrier  between  them. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  59 

The  afternoon  sunshine,  piercing  through  the 
trees  and  bushes,  stretched  in  level  lines  across  the 
grass ;  it  lay  warm  upon  the  red  bricks  of  the  rec 
tory,  and  slipped,  glistening,  over  the  mat  of  ivy  on 
the  south  wall,  and  it  struck  a  sudden  shine  from  all 
the  little  panes  of  glass  set  in  their  deep  window 
frames.  The  brothers  sat  down  under  a  trellis 
where  the  wistaria  hung  its  bee-haunted  blossoms 
above  their  heads  ;  syringas  pressed  close  about  this 
little  arbor,  filling  the  air  with  heavy  fragrance  ;  and 
a  thicket  of  lilacs,  their  dark,  heart-shaped  leaves 
spotted  with  white  mould,  made  a  dense  shade  be 
hind  it.  There  was  a  small  wooden  table  in  the 
arbor,  and  on  it  were  a  decanter  and  two  glasses. 

Dr.  Lavendar,  with  a  careful  hand  and  an  intent, 
puckered  face,  mixed  the  proper  proportions  of  water 
and  sugar  and  lemon  with  the  contents  of  the  de 
canter  ;  then,  his  legs  stretched  out  before  him,  the 
front  of  his  waistcoat  sprinkled  with  ashes  from  his 
pipe,  his  black  skull-cap  pulled  down  over  his  stiff 
white  hair,  he  gave  himself  up  to  comfort.  Danny 
had  stretched  himself  luxuriously  upon  the  grass 
checkered  with  moving  leaf  shadows,  and  was  open 
ing  one  eye  occasionally  to  snap  at  an  impertinent 
fly.  Dr.  Lavendar  sipped,  and  sipped,  and  talked. 
Joseph  listened,  and  agreed,  and  held  his  glass  up 
before  his  eyes,  narrowed  to  a  beaming  line  to  catch 
the  light  through  the  liquor.  It  was  not  unnatural, 
everything  being  so  harmonious,  that  Dr.  Lavendar, 
with  a  view  to  dropping  the  subject,  should  do  so 
with  some  well-chosen  words. 


60  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Joey,  in  connection  with  what  we  were  speaking 
of  last  week,  —  I  don't  mean  to  discuss  it,  of  course 
every  man  has  a  right  to  his  opinions,  and  you  have 
a  right  to  yours  ;  I  'm  the  last  person  to  dispute  that, 
for,  whatever  else  I  may  be,  I  'm  tolerant !  —  but, 
in  that  connection,  I  just  wished  to  say  to  you  that, 
in  formulating  your  opinion  of  your  friend  Mrs. 
Pendleton,  it  seemed  to  me  you  overlooked  one  fact 
which  I  think  bespeaks  character :  she  enjoys  giving 
away  money  to  the  poor  so  much  that  she  gives  it 
where  it  does  harm.  Now,  that 's  pure  selfishness, 
not  generosity  ;  she  — 

"  Brother  Jim,  do  you  not  overlook  the  fact  that 
she  has  a  kind  disposition  ?  " 

"  I  was  not  talking  about  her  disposition  !  "  de 
clared  Dr.  Lavendar,  frowning.  "  I  'm  not  in  the 
habit  of  discussing  a  lady's  disposition,  sir.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  her  disposition.  But  I  hope 
I  am  not  trespassing  upon  any  propriety  when  I  say 
that  her  intelligence  is  at  fault?  She  is  not  intelli 
gent.  She  has  gone  and  given  some  money  to  Job 
Todd.  He  does  n't  have  to  work,  and  so  he  gets 
drunk." 

"  A  kind  deed,"  Mr.  Joseph  began  to  explain, 
44  may  be  an  error  of  judgment,  brother  Jim,  but  — 

44  It  is  n't  kind  if  it 's  an  error  of  judgment, 
brother  Joe,"  cried  the  other ;  44  you  have  n't  any 
business  to  make  errors  in  judgment  in  dealing  with 
people  like  Todd." 

44  Well,  but,"  protested  Mr.  Lavendar,  his  face 
quite  agitated,  and  his  kind,  prominent  blue  eyes 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  61 

distressed  and  entreating,  "  everybody  makes  mis 
takes  sometimes." 

"  No,  they  don't.  Look  at  Susan  Carr.  Never 
made  a  mistake  in  her  life  !  At  least  —  you  make 
me  emphatic  —  I  mean  her  judgment  is  good.  Now, 
there  's  a  woman  I  admire  !  " 

Mr.  Lavendar's  face  softened ;  he  even  blushed  a 
little.  "  An  admirable  lady,  yes  ;  I  agree  with  you," 
he  said.  "  I  am  sure  she  has  a  kindly  feeling  for  — 
for  the  lady  of  whom  we  were  speaking.  And  you 
respect  her  judgment,  brother  Jim  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  do.  I  don't  know  her  views  on 
this  subject,  but  Utile  Dulce  is  intelligent;  and 
she  —  " 

But  Joseph  did  not  follow  his  brother's  disserta 
tion  upon  the  estimable  Miss  Carr.  "  Miss  Susan 
and  I  are  going  to  look  over  a  new  Te  Deum,"  he 
said  ;  "  I  wrote  her  about  it,  and  I  shall  take  the  lib 
erty  of  stepping  over  to  her  house  after  tea." 

"  Good  idea,"  assented  the  old  clergyman,  with  a 
pleased  look,  —  Joey  was  not  apt  to  give  up  these 
discussions  upon  Mrs.  Pendleton  so  readily ;  "  excel 
lent  plan.  I  have  a  great  regard  for  Susan  Carr. 
Ah,  Joey  boy,  there  was  a  woman!  When  you 
were  both  younger,  I  used  to  hope—  But  you'd 
had  your  deathblow,  poor  boy ;  yes,  your  deathblow. 
It 's  queer  that  an  unintelligent  person  can  have 
such  an  effect.  Well,  I  didn't  mean  to  discuss  it. 
Let 's  drop  the  subject.  Yes,  of  course,  go  over  to 
Susan's.  I  think  I  '11  step  in  with  you  myself." 

"  Oh,  will  you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Joseph,  a  little  blankly ; 
"  that  will  be  very  agreeable." 


V. 


What  do  you  think  of  marriage  ? 
I  take  't  (as  those  that  deny  purgatory) 
It  locally  contains  or  Heaven  or  Hell ; 
There 's  no  third  place  in  it. 

Duchess  of  Malfy. 

MRS.  DRAYTON  had  just  declared  that  it  was  a  lit 
tle  bitter  to  take  a  mother's  place  to  a  child,  and  then 
be  forgotten.  u  For  Cecil  has  been  here  three  days, 
and  hasn't  called,"  she  was  saying,  when  she  dis 
cerned  her  step-daughter  walking  indolently  up  the 
village  street. 

"  Oh,  at  last !  "  she  said,  and  glanced  at  the  mir 
ror  at  her  side,  to  see  if  she  were  tidy.  Mrs.  Dray: 
ton  was  always  careful  to  have  the  cheval  glass  near 
her,  so  that  she  might  be  sure  of  the  delicate  pre 
cision  of  her  invalid  costume.  "  The  light  hurts  my 
eyes,"  she  used  to  say  patiently,  with  the  air  of  one 
who  suffers  for  a  principle,  "  but  I  must  be  tidy !  " 
And  so  she  patted  her  faded  hair,  and  pulled  the 
ruffles  down  about  her  lean  wrists,  and  looked  again 
swiftly  into  the  glass. 

There  was  a  nervous  quiver  in  her  small,  blond 
countenance;  she  was  afraid  of  Cecil.  A  certain 
smile  at  the  corner  of  her  step-daughter's  lip  con 
fused  and  terrified  her.  At  heart,  she  much  pre 
ferred  the  diversion  of  being  neglected,  the  interest 
of  Cecil's  unkindness,  to  the  shivering  apprehension 
which  her  dutifulness  aroused. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  63 

"  How  well  you  look !  "  Cecil  said  cordially ;  and 
Mrs.  Drayton  kissed  her  in  an  agitated  way,  and 
responded,  "  I  don't  look  as  I  feel,  then.  I  am  far 
from  well,  —  far  from  well !  " 

Lyssie  glanced  at  her  sister  imploringly;  had 
Cecil  forgotten  that  her  mother  did  not  like  to  be 
told  that  she  looked  well  ? 

Cecil  answered  only  by  a  surprised  "  Really  ? 
Well,  one  can't  tell  anything  by  looks.  It  seems  to 
me  you  look  younger  and  better  than  when  I  saw 
you  last." 

The  frightened  attention  in  Mrs.  Drayton's  face 
relaxed.  "  Well,  I  suppose  I  am  a  little  older,  but 
confinement  indoors  does  spare  the  complexion,  —  I 
must  admit  that."  As  she  spoke,  she  glanced  at 
the  mirror  again,  which  made  Cecil  say  that  the  re 
flection  from  the  glass  must  try  her  eyes ;  and  she 
even  took  the  trouble  to  rise  and  throw  her  wrap 
across  the  tall  carved  frame  and  over  the  gleaming 
oblong  of  the  mirror.  She  looked  sidewise  at  her 
step-mother  as  she  did  it,  and  smiled.  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton  gave  a  gasp,  and  had  the  air  of  one  searching 
for  a  repartee.  She  found  nothing  more  impressive 
to  say,  however,  than  that  she  thought  Molly  was 
looking  well  when  Philip  brought  the  child  to  see 
her.  "  Philip  came  three  days  ago,"  she  declared 
significantly. 

Lyssie,  hovering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  conversa 
tion,  ready  to  rush  in  as  peacemaker,  or  to  be  silent 
when  either  of  the  two  v/hom  she  loved  best  in  the 
world  seemed  to  be  doing  herself  justice,  said,  hur- 


64  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

riedly,  something  about  Mr.  Carey.  Was  he  going 
to  stay  long  ?  Did  he  like  Old  Chester  ? 

"  He  is  quite  agreeable,"  Mrs.  Drayton  announced, 
before  Cecil  made  any  effort  to  reply.  "  He  called 
yesterday.  Your  company  came  to  see  me,  Cecil, 
though  you  did  not." 

Cecil  opened  her  eyes  in  frank  astonishment. 
"  Why,  he  does  admire  you,  Lys  !  " 

The  invalid  frowned,  and  drew  her  little  pale  lips 
together.  u  Really,  Cecil,  such  talk  is  quite  indeli 
cate.  Young  girls  in  Old  Chester  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  hearing  that  they  are  admired." 

"No,  I  shouldn't  think  they  were,"  Cecil  said 
dryly.  "  Lys  is  an  exception.  But  perhaps  you 
don't  mean  her  ever  to  have  an  admirer  ?  " 

"  Ceci,  you  're  a  goose  !  "  Alicia  broke  in.  "  How 
can  anybody  have  an  admirer  in  Old  Chester  ?  I  am 
going  to  succeed  Miss  Susan  as  a  model  spinster." 

"  When  the  proper  time  comes,"  Mrs.  Drayton 
said  severely,  "  I  hope  Alicia  will  be  suitably  settled. 
But  I  don't  approve  of  talking  flippantly  about  a 
serious  matter." 

"  It  is  serious,"  Cecil  agreed,  with  an  amused  look. 
"  But  it  does  turn  out  well  sometimes.  Look  at  me  ! 
And  your  marriage,  too ;  though  you  can  hardly  ex 
pect  Lys  to  find  a  widower.  I  've  heard  you  say 
that  widowers  make  the  best  husbands." 

Mrs.  Drayton  sat  up  very  straight,  and  seemed  to 
consider  where  she  could  strike  a  blow.  "  Yes,  you 
are  quite  right ;  they  do.  And  as  for  your  father's 
being  a  widower,  as  you  are  unkind  enough  to  re- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  65 

mind  me,  Cecilia,  I  can't  help  saying  that  I  don't 
mind  being  a  second  wife,  but  I  never  would  have 
consented  to  be  a  second  love !  " 

She  almost  sobbed,  but  Cecil  said  soothingly,  "  I 
am  sure  you  were  not  a  second  love,  Mrs.  Drayton." 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  objectionable  in  such 
an  acknowledgment.  "  But  she  means  something," 
the  poor  little  woman  thought,  and  repeated,  with  a 
catch  in  her  voice,  that  there  were  people  who  said 
there  was  no  husband  so  good  as  one  who  had 
learned  a  lesson  of  patience  with  a  first  wife,  "  even 
if  it  was  a  very  youthful  experience." 

"  Ah,  well,"  Cecil  objected  seriously,  "  some 
body  's  got  to  marry  first,  to  make  the  widowers,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  Unfortunately,"  Alicia  broke  in,  "  we  have  no 
widowers,  only  a  widow ;  and  she  can't  get  married 
unless  she  gives  up  the  money  her  husband  left  her. 
Was  n't  it  unkind  in  him  to  make  a  will  like  that  ?  " 

This  well-timed  remark  diverted  the  threatening 
storm,  and  Mrs.  Drayton  began  to  gossip  about  her 
neighbors,  and  to  deplore  their  failings,  which  made 
her  exceedingly  good  natured.  For  a  virtuous  dis 
content  with  other  people  imparts  a  sense  of  recti 
tude  and  a  peace  of  mind  hardly  equaled  by  virtue 
itself.  Cecil,  looking  out  of  the  window,  and  watch 
ing  the  blowing  silver  of  some  willows  at  the  foot  of 
the  lawn,  and  beyond  them,  now  and  then,  the  faint, 
rocking  flash  of  the  river,  listened  lazily.  Alicia 
breathed  freely,  and  doubtless  all  would  have  gone 
well  had  Mrs.  Drayton  only  refrained  from  going 


66  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE: 

back  to  her  first  grievance.  "  Yes,  everybody  in  Old 
Chester  is  very  kind  to  me ;  all  my  friends  come  to 
see  me ;  they  don't  forget  how  lonely  I  am."  She 
sighed,  and  glanced  at  her  husband's  miniature, 
which  she  wore  on  a  long,  slender  gold  chain  about 
her  neck. 

Cecil  was  unable  to  resist  this.  "  You  must  miss 
papa  very  much  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  little  know !  his  absence  is  a  great 
cross  ;  my  one  prayer  is  that  —  " 

"  That  he  will  return  ?  " 

"  That  his  health  will  permit  him  to  return.  I 
could  never  be  so  selfish  as  to  wish  him  to  run  any 
risk  for  my  sake  ;  that  is  not  my  idea  of  love,  Cecil." 

"  I  should  be  so  interested  to  know-  your  idea  of 
love,"  Cecil  answered  slowly ;  "  but  I  was  sure  you 
would  not  wish  him  to  return." 

"  Mother  is  so  nervous  about  people's  health," 
rushed  in  the  tender,  young,  troubled  voice  ;  and 
then  poor  Lyssie  said,  breathlessly,  she  "  wondered 
when  Cecil  and  Philip  would  come  to  tea." 

"  Why,  you  don't  seem  to  want  to  talk  about  our 
dear  papa  ?  "  her  sister  said,  laughing  and  rising  ; 
then  she  bade  her  cowering  step-mother  good-by,  and 
regretted  that  she  must  remove  her  wrap  from  the 
mirror. 

"  Ceci,  how  can  you  tease  mother  so  !  "  Lyssie 
said  hotly,  as  they  went  downstairs.  "  You  know 
how  nervous  she  is,  and  you  know,  in  spite  of  —  of 
the  things  you  make  her  say,  she  really  loves  you, 
and  —  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  07  • 

"  Which  of  us  is  Mr.  Drayton's  child  by  his  first 
wife  ?  "  Cecil  broke  in  drolly. 

«  Cecil ! " 

"  Ah,  well,  I  ought  not  to  tease  Mrs.  Dray  ton, 
—  you  are  quite  right,"  Cecil  confessed  frankly. 
"  I  won't.  I  '11  stay  at  home.  Lyssie,  come  to  sup 
per  to-night  and  entertain  your  mother's  admirer. 
Why  did  n't  he  tell  me  he  had  called  ?  "  And  then 
she  went  away,  smiling  to  herself  at  Mrs.  Drayton's 
fright. 

But  Lyssie  could  not  be  spared  that  evening. 
Her  mother  had  been  so  much  agitated  by  Cecil's 
visit  that  she  was  too  unwell  to  be  left  alone. 

"  Oh,  I  am  a  poor  useless  creature,"  said  Mrs. 
Drayton,  her  voice  quivering.  "  I  interfere  with 
your  pleasures.  I  'm  a  burden  to  you.  Yes,  you 
need  n't  deny  it,  Lyssie ;  you  would  rather  be  with 
Cecil  than  stand  here  and  comb  my  hair.  I  am 
a  miserable  burden ;  and  if  it  were  not  wrong,  I 
should  wish  that  my  heavenly  Father  would  take 
me  to  himself  !  " 

While  Lyssie,  with  great  good  sense  tempered  by 
tenderness,  was  combating  these  opinions,  Cecil,  in 
the  fragrant  twilight  on  the  terrace,  talked  about  her 
step-mother  to  her  husband  and  her  guest ;  or  it 
would  be  more  exact  to  say,  she  talked  to  her  guest, 
for  Philip,  sitting  smoking  on  the  steps  of  the  ter 
race,  took  no  part  in  the  conversation.  Molly,  nest 
ling  down  in  his  arms,  listened  to  her  mother's  talk, 
and  frankly  resisted  her  father's  efforts  to  gain  her 
attention. 


•  68  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  I  'd  rather  hear  mamma  talk.  Mamma  is  so 
funny !  "  she  said  ;  and  Philip  had  no  choice,  at  last, 
but  to  lure  the  child  down  into  the  garden,  to  spare 
her  some  little  childish  delusions  about  her  grand 
mother. 

Koger  Carey,  listening,  laughed  and  looked  an 
noyed,  and  then  laughed  again.  "  The  old  lady  is 
preposterous,"  he  thought,  "  but  she 's  Miss  Dray- 
ton's  mother.  Mrs.  Shore  does  n't  seem  to  consider 
that."  Nevertheless,  he  laughed  until  the  tears 
stood  in  his  eyes,  when  his  hostess  told  him,  with  un 
sparing  and  clever  truthfulness,  this  or  that  incident 
in  which  poor  foolish  Mrs.  Drayton  had  taken  her 
self  seriously. 

"  And  the  funny  part  of  it  is,  Lyssie  does  n't  see 
how  amusing  her  mother  is,"  Mrs.  Shore  ended  ; 
"  she  takes  her  seriously,  too,  —  dear  little  thing  !  " 

"  Well,  that 's  fortunate,"  Mr.  Carey  commented. 

"  Fortunate  ?  Why,  not  at  all ;  it  simply  encour 
ages  Mrs.  Drayton,  and  — 

"  Yes ;  but  don't  you  see,"  interrupted  Eoger 
Carey,  "  it  would  be  fatal  if  she  were  ridiculous  in 
her  daughter's  eyes.  Absurdity  is  the  one  thing 
love  can't  stand ;  it  can  overlook  anything  else,  - 
coldness,  or  weakness,  or  viciousness,  —  but  just  be 
ridiculous  and  that 's  the  end  of  it !  " 

"  Ah,  but  not  that  kind  of  love,"  Cecil  said.  "  My 
sister's  feeling  for  her  mother  is  not  the  lover's  love, 
nor  even  the  filial  love  ;  it  is  the  maternal  passion. 
One  is  never  ridiculous  to  one's  mother." 

Love  is  a  most  interesting  topic  between  men  and 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  69 

women.  Mr.  Carey's  cigar  went  out  while  lie  laid 
down  the  law  with  all  the  emphasis 'of  the  theorist; 
until,  by  some  chance,  —  perhaps  it  was  in  the  way 
of  an  illustration  of  married  love,  —  they  came  back 
to  Mrs.  Drayton  again,  and  Cecil  began  to  tell 
another  absurd  story  about  her.  Then  Eoger  Carey 
lighted  his  cigar,  and  frowned  a  little. 

"It's  awfully  funny,"  he  said,  "but  I  feel  as 
though  I  ought  to  apologize  to  your  sister  for  listen 
ing  to  it." 

His  blunt  rudeness  made  Cecil  Shore  look  at  him 
with  attention.  But  he  never  thought  of  apologiz 
ing  ;  instead,  he  began  to  talk  of  other  things,  with 
that  good-humored  determination  to  change  the  sub 
ject  which  is  so  irritating  to  the  listener.  Mrs. 
Shore  felt  it,  and  was  almost  relieved  to  see  her  hus 
band  appear.  Philip  had  mounted  Molly  on  his  shoul 
der  ;  she  was  pulling  his  head  over  sidewise  upon  her 
little  breast,  and  rumpling  his  hair  about  his  eyes. 
When  they  reached  the  steps  of  the  terrace,  he 
slipped  her  gently  down  from  her  high  perch,  and 
made  great  pretense  of  horror  at  his  disheveled  con 
dition,  which  enchanted  Molly,  who  shrieked  her 
desire  for  another  ride. 

"  No,  a  merciful  little  girl  is  merciful  to  her  beast. 
And  it 's  your  bedtime,  too.  Oh,  what  dissipation  ! 
It 's  a  quarter  past  eight.  Run  along,  now,  to  bed." 

"  Oh  no,  I  want  her,"  Cecil  said  gayly.  "  Don't 
you  want  to  sit  up  with  mamma  a  little  while  ?  " 

And  Molly,  nothing  loath  to  escape  her  nurse  and 
her  father's  rule  of  bed  at  eight  o'clock,  climbed  up 


70  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

into  her  mother's  lap.  Cecil  clasped  her  in  her 
arms  and  kissed  her,  rocking  the  child  backwards, 
and  catching  her  with  a  storm  of  caresses.  Philip 
looked  away,  and  then  back  again,  and  opened  and 
shut  his  hands  nervously.  His  glance  had  in  it  none 
of  that  deep  and  beautiful  meaning  with  which  a 
man  may  look  at  the  woman  and  the  child  who  are 
his,  who  stand  to  him  forever  as  that  other  Mother 
and  Child  who  belong  to  our  humanity  and  divinity. 
Roger  Carey  felt  the  peculiar  unhappiness  which  is 
experienced  by  a  guest  conscious  that  a  domestic  in 
felicity  is  occurring  in  his  presence.  He  said  impetu 
ously,  and  with  no  regard  for  relevance,  something 
about  some  stock  quotation,  and  bewailed  his  luck. 

"  Hang  it,  the  day  after  I  bought,  down  it  went !  " 

Philip,  turning  his  back  on  those  two  on  the  ter 
race  above  him,  said  calmly,  why  had  he  not  done 
thus  and  so  ?  why  had  he  not  taken  advantage  of 
this  and  that  ?  and  then  gave  him  a  bit  of  informa 
tion  which  made  Roger  slap  his  thigh  and  cry  out  in 
grateful  enthusiasm,  "  By  Jove,  that 's  neat !  I  did  n't 
know  you  were  up  to  this  sort  of  thing  ?  You 
ought  to  be  on  the  street ;  what  a  business  man  you 
would  make !  " 

"  Philip  is  a  good  business  man,"  said  Cecil  kindly. 
"  Since  he  has  managed  my  property,  my  income  has 
increased  fifty  per  cent., — no,  forty.  How  much 
did  you  tell  me,  Philip  ?  Fifty  per  cent.  ?" 

Roger  drew  in  his  breath  in  a  noiseless  whistle ; 
he  did  not  look  at  his  host. 

"  Your  income  has  increased  forty  per  cent.," 
Philip  answered. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  71 

"  Well,"  said  Roger,  "  if  you  have  any  more  of 
these  ideas  lying  around  loose,  do  hand  them  over  to 
me.  I  'm  amazed  to  find  that  you  have  a  genius  for 
speculating." 

"  I  have  n't.  It  is  Mrs.  Shore's  wish  to  invest  her 
money  in  this  way ;  I  merely  act  for  her.  That 's 
how  I  happen  to  know  about  it." 

"  Philip's  one  fear  is  that  I  shall  grow  what  he 
calls  disgustingly  rich,"  Cecil  murmured,  over 
Molly's  head.  ("  Now,  Molly,  go  to  bed.  Mamma 
is  tired.  Come,  don't  be  so  slow !  I  hate  people 
who  dawdle.  You  absurd  little  monkey !  you  don't 
want  to  go  to  bed?  Well,  then,  climb  up  in 
mamma's  lap  again.)  Mr.  Carey,  you  don't  know 
all  Mr.  Shore's  remarkable  qualities :  he  is  a  single- 
tax  man,  a  woman's-rights  man,  a  philanthropist, 
a  —  a  —  an  artist,  —  all  in  one.  Oh,  and  a  finan 
cier;  though  that  is  not  genuine;  he  prefers  pov 
erty,  don't  you,  Philip  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  prefer  a  walk,  at  this  moment,"  her 
husband  said  lightly,  "  if  you  will  excuse  me  ?  Carey, 
shall  I  leave  you  with  Mrs.  Shore  ?  "  And  then  he 
lounged  down  into  the  summer  dusk  and  disap 
peared. 

Roger  Carey  debated  with  himself  a  moment,  and 
looked  after  him.  He  did  not  like  Mrs.  Shore,  but 
he  liked  to  hear  her  talk ;  so  his  half -uttered  excuse 
died  upon  his  lips.  "  Shore 's  too  polite  to  her,"  he 
thought,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  pleasure  of  look 
ing  at  her  and  listening  to  her.  But  Cecil  saw  the 
moment's  hesitation  with  an  astonishment  that  had 
in  it  both  amusement  and  annoyance. 


VI. 

I  took  you  —  how  could  I  otherwise  ?  — 
For  a  world  to  me,  and  more ; 
For  all,  love  greatens  and  glorifies 
Till  God  's  aglow,  to  the  loving  eyes, 
In  what  was  mere  earth  before. 

BROWNING. 

ALONE,  Philip  Shore  drew  a  breath  of  relief ;  he 
let  himself  out  into  the  grassy  lane  by  the  great  iron 
gates  at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  and  as  they  clanged 
sharply  behind  him  his  face  lost  its  look  of  restraint, 
and  settled  into  the  worn  lines  of  habitual  and  trou 
bled  thought.  It  was  an  interesting  face,  gentle, 
intelligent,  sad ;  the  face,  as  Mr.  William  Dray  ton 
had  recognized,  of  an  ascetic,  of  a  man  who  might 
even  be  a  fanatic,  but  one  in  which  the  harassed  bit 
terness  could  melt  into  sweetness  when  his  eye  caught 
a  flower  nodding  against  a  blue  sky,  or  when  he 
heard  the  murmur  of  water  under  a  vague  moon,  or 
when  a  child's  hand  touched  his  own.  Even  now, 
with  eyes  oppressed  and  heavy  with  thought,  he 
stopped  to  notice  some  distant  cypresses  standing 
like  black  spires  against  the  fading  yellow  in  the 
west.  He  seemed  to  have  no  objective  point  in  his 
walk ;  he  went  at  first  towards  Miss  Susan  Carr's 
house,  then  hesitated,  and  turned  down  the  road, 
walking  slowly  and  aimlessly  until  he  reached  the 
bridge  which  crossed  the  river,  like  a  gray  ribbon 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  73 

stretched  between  green  banks.  Though  the  sky 
was  still  faintly  light,  it  was  quite  dark  down  there, 
for  the  river  ran  close  to  the  hills ;  it  was  very  silent, 
too. 

Philip  folded  his  arms  upon  the  stone  coping,  and 
watched  the  slight  heaving  of  the  lily  pads ;  there 
was  a  faint  lap  and  slip  of  the  water  against  the  pier 
in  mid-stream.  As  he  leaned  there,  looking  down 
at  the  black  current,  a  sudden  tremulous  sparkle 
wavered  up  from  its  depths,  and  he  lifted  his  eyes  to 
see  a  star  hanging  low  in  the  melting,  translucent 
dusk  above  the  hill ;  the  star  in  the  river  shook  and 
trembled,  plunging  down  like  a  golden  plummet,  or 
blotted  out  when  a  lily  leaf  swung  across  its  upward 
track ;  but  it  grew  brighter,  for  the  darkness  deep 
ened,  and  still  he  leaned  and  watched  it.  He  was 
saying  over  to  himself  words  which  clamored  in  his 
ears  in  all  his  silent  moments  :  "  How  far  is  a  man's 
own  conception  of  his  duty  to  weigh  against  accepted 
standards?" 

It  is  a  serious  question.  Most  conscientious  men 
and  women  must  answer  it  one  way  or  another  in 
their  lives.  Philip  Shore  had  been  trying  to  answer 
it  for  three  years.  For  it  was  just  three  years  since 
he  had  acknowledged  the  hopelessness  of  his  marriage, 
and  had  said  to  himself  a  hard  saying :  "  Marriage 
without  love  is  as  spiritually  illegal  as  love  without 
marriage  is  civilly  illegal."  This  once  admitted, 
that  unanswered  question  inevitably  presents  itself : 
May  a  man  be  base  in  his  own  eyes,  because  the  law 
approves?  May  he  live  a  lie,  because  expediency 


74  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

and  custom  condone  the  offense  ?  Or  shall  his  own 
conception  of  duty  weigh  against  accepted  stan 
dards  ? 

Philip  Shore  was  thirty-three  that  summer ;  but 
he  looked  older,  for  he  had  hardly  known  youth  in 
the  sense  of  joyous  unconcern  and  divine,  full-blooded 
humanness.  The  years  before  he  went  to  college  had 
not  been  young  years ;  his  uncle  had  made  the  lad 
his  companion,  and  kept  him  reading  and  studying 
with  him  when  he  should  have  been  at  boarding- 
school,  among  boys  of  his  own  age.  Philip's  pas 
sionate  feeling  for  color  Donald  Shore  admired,  with 
reverence,  because  he  was  himself  quite  without  it. 
The  boy  should  be  an  artist,  he  said;  and  Susan 
Carr  agreed  with  him,  and  so  they  put  their  wedding 
off  a  little  longer,  that  Donald  might  take  Philip 
away  for  a  year's  study  before  he  went  to  college. 
"When  you  are  through  college,  boy,"  the  uncle 
said,  "  we  '11  go  abroad !  "  But  before  that  time 
came  Donald  died,  and  Philip  had  to  arrange  for 
that  study  abroad  without  the  encouragement  and 
stimulus  of  Mr.  Shore's  deep  and  quite  unwarrant 
able  belief  in  him. 

Philip  had  been  so  happy  with  his  uncle  that  he 
had  not  cared  very  much  for  the  society  of  those  of 
his  own  age,  except  indeed  for  Cecil  Drayton's  soci 
ety,  and  hers  not  at  all  because  she  was  the  Ever 
lasting  Feminine.  "  Cecil  has  brains,"  he  told  his 
uncle ;  "  she  is  n't  girly."  So  it  was  not  until  he 
had  finished  college,  and  had  come  home  to  Old 
Chester  for  a  month's  visit  before  starting  for  Paris, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  75 

that  he  fell  in  love  with  this  tall,  silent,  mysterious 
Cecil.  At  least  she  seemed  mysterious  to  him.  Per 
haps  love,  like  art,  needs  mystery,  for  it  does  not  al 
ways  thrive  in  the  unreserve  of  realism.  Certainly, 
Philip's  absence  for  the  next  three  years  kept  him 
very  ignorant  and  very  devoted.  He  was  very  much 
in  love  in  those  few  weeks  before  he  went  away.  He 
said  to  her  the  old,  beautiful  words  which  every  lover 
has  whispered,  and  every  mistress  has  believed :  "  No 
woman  was  ever  loved  as  I  love  you,  because  there 
never  was  a  woman  like  you !  "  Cecil,  just  home 
from  boarding-school,  wondering  what  life  meant, 
still  altogether  potential,  —  Cecil  smiled,  and  sighed, 
and  consented ;  gazing  with  calm,  innocent  eyes  at 
the  extraordinary  agitation  in  his  face.  She  thought 
he  would  kiss  her,  but  he  knelt  down  and  kissed  the 
hem  of  her  dress,  and  went  away  silently,  leaving 
her  amused,  but  not  displeased.  Then  had  come  the 
three  years  of  engagement  and  absence  and  letter- 
writing,  —  three  things  which  most  perfectly  conceal 
character.  When  they  ended,  these  two  young  per 
sons  knew  each  other  less  than  at  their  beginning. 

Cecil  had  been  impatient  for  the  engagement  to 
end.  She  wanted  to  go  abroad ;  she  wanted  to  live 
the  strange,  fascinating  Bohemian  life  of  which  her 
lover  wrote  her  ;  she  wanted  —  oh,  how  much  she 
wanted  !  —  to  get  away  from  Old  Chester.  "  I  'm 
rich,  you  know,"  she  wrote  him  once,  shyly;  and 
though  he  adored  the  noble  frankness  of  her  love,  he 
must,  he  told  her,  feel  that  he  was  able  to  support 
her,  and  then  —  then  ! 


76  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

And  so  lie  worked,  his  soul  kindling  with  the 
thought  of  the  woman  he  loved.  His  love  was  a 

O 

form  of  art  to  him ;  it  was  religion  ;  it  was  life  ;  it 
was  his  inmost  self.  It  created  in  him  the  purity,  the 
truth,  the  reverence,  which  it  revealed  in  her.  That 
she  should  love  him  filled  him  with  that  fine  humility 
which  exalts  instead  of  depresses.  It  was  the  mys 
tery  of  the  Divine  coming  down  to  earth  for  us  men 
and  for  our  salvation  ;  it  was  not  to  be  understood ; 
it  was  to  be  accepted.  Her  potentiality  did  not 
trouble  him  ;  her  sweet  ignorance  of  human  passion 
exhilarated  him. 

Love  such  as  this  dwells  less  upon  the  beauty  of 
the  beloved,  the  touch  of  her  hand,  the  ivory  curve 
of  her  soft  throat,  —  the  things  on  which  a  young 
lover  writes  lame  verses,  'and  of  which  he  is  as  proud 
as  though  he  were  responsible  for  their  perfection,  — 
such  love  thinks  less,  or  not  at  all,  of  those  things, 
and  much  of  the  God  who  is  revealed  in  them.  Of 
course,  with  the  pathetic  belief  of  youth  that  abso 
lute  confidence  is  possible  between  human  souls, 
Philip  used  to  write  to  her  of  all  this  spiritual  sig 
nificance  of  love  ;  and  she,  with  gentle  and  non-com 
mittal  sympathy,  would  answer  that  what  he  said 
was  true,  or  wonderful,  or  beautiful ;  and  her  lover's 
heart  would  glow  at  the  "reserve,"  the  "insight," 
which  those  words  indicated. 

Philip  Shore  was  a  man  capable  of  sustained  ec 
stasy  ;  a  man  who  lived,  not  upon  those  occasional 
sunlit  peaks  of  emotion  which  most  of  us  touch  now 
and  then,  but  upon  a  high  plateau  of  noble  idealism, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  77 

and  the  three  years  of  waiting  became  almost  the  noviti 
ate  of  a  holy  life,  so  complete  was  his  idealization  of 
marriage,  of  love,  and  of  the  woman  he  loved.  Very 
likely  there  was  a  touch  of  the  mystic  in  this  young 
man ;  mysticism  is  latent  in  most  artistic  tempera 
ments,  though  it  does  not  always  show  in  artists, 
perhaps  because  the  mercantile  instinct  which  they 
so  readily  acquire  chokes  anything  so  unprofitable 
as  mysticism.  And  Philip,  unhappily,  was  never  to 
be  more  than  artistic ;  his  ability  fell  just  short  of 
making  him  an  artist. 

They  were  married  rather  unexpectedly.  The 
three  years'  study  had  not  found  Philip  very  far  on 
the  road  to  fame,  and  the  engagement  might  have 
been  prolonged,  had  not  Mr.  William  Drayton  met 
him  one  day  in  Paris,  and,  in  a  burst  of  sudden 
fatherly  interest,  told  him  the  engagement  had  lasted 
long  enough.  "  She 's  got  plenty  of  money,  so 
what 's  the  use  of  waiting  ?  Take  her  or  leave  her ; 
don't  shilly-shally !  "  said  the  unromantic  father. 

And  Philip  took  her. 

And  so  at  last  came  the  wonderful  day.  Now, 
nine  years  after,  Philip,  leaning  over  the  parapet  of 
the  old  bridge,  staring  down  at  the  rocking  lilies, 
remembered  it,  the  color  burning  suddenly  in  his  face. 

The  night  before  he  arrived  in  Old  Chester  was 
as  much  a  holy  vigil  to  him  as  were  those  sacred 
hours  which  young  knights  spent  on  their  knees  be 
fore  their  armor.  He  was  too  solemn  to  know  that 
he  was  happy;  his  thoughts  were  prayers.  The 
next  day,  as  a  priest  might  go  to  the  altar,  —  nay, 


78  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

as  a  soul  to  its  God,  —  Philip  Shore  went  to  the  wo 
man  he  loved. 

Thinking  of  that  supreme  moment,  here  in  the 
summer  darkness  on  the  bridge,  he  drew  a  breath 
that  was  like  a  groan.  He  remembered  what  he  had 
meant  to  tell  her ;  he  knew  the  very  words  in  which  he 
had  intended  to  say  that  in  these  three  years  of  ab 
sence  the  white  thought  of  her  had  shown  in  every 
dark  place  of  his  nature ;  she  should  see  that  the 
man's  soul  in  him  knelt  before  her  womanhood.  He 
meant,  too,  to  share  with  her,  with  the  generosity  of 
only  the  highest  love,  a  deep  distress  of  his  own,  at 
which,  in  his  letters,  he  had  only  been  able  to  hint,  — 
the  knowledge  that  had  come  to  him  of  his  own  medi 
ocrity  in  art,  and  the  alternative  of  going  on  with  a 
work  which  he  loved,  in  which  he  could  never  excel, 
and  the  giving  it  up  to  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel 
of  life,  and  be  of  some  use  in  the  world.  That  she 
would  counsel  him  as  his  own  soul  had  counseled 
him  he  had  never  doubted.  It  was  in  this  spirit 
that  he  met  her. 

Still  in  her  eyes  he  found  the  same  deep  smile, 
the  smile  into  which  he  had  read  every  solemn  mean 
ing  of  life  and  death  and  love ;  still,  still,  that  won 
derful,  sympathetic  silence,  which  had  again  and 
again  by  all  its  unuttered  intelligence,  revealed  him  to 
himself.  There  was  all  this,  but  there  was  something 
more.  They  sat  together  alone  in  the  June  dusk. 
There  was  the  scent  of  jessamine  about  them  ;  a  star 
shook  in  the  tender  sky ;  far  down  in  the  orchard, 
a  bird  cry,  as  clear  as  a  drop  of  honey,  fell  into  the 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  79 

beating  silence.  Cecil,  leaning  back  in  her  chair, 
bent  her  arm  behind  her  head,  and  the  full  sleeve 
slipped  up  above  her  elbow ;  the  warm  shadow  of 
her  white  chin  fell  across  the  curve  of  her  bare 
throat ;  the  dusky  rose  in  her  cheek  deepened  ;  she 
drew  in  her  red  lower  lip,  and  lifted  her  eyes,  full  of 
the  glints  and  lights  of  dark  wine,  and  brimmed 
with  meaning,  and  for  a  silent  instant  looked  full  at 
him.  Then  she  laughed. 

It  seemed  to  Philip  that  she  said  something,  —  he 
did  not  know  what,  —  some  commonplace  about  the 
wedding,  perhaps  ;  he  did  not  hear  it.  A  mad,  un 
recognized,  latent  Self  leaped  up.  All  his  love 
burst  into  flame;  the  spiritual  passion  vanished. 
His  hands  tightened  upon  each  other;  his  eyes 
glowed.  He  crushed  her  hand  in  his  savagely, 
kissing  the  warm  palm,  until  she  gave  a  little  cry 
and  laugh,  and  said  he  hurt  her.  "  Mine !  "  he 
said  to  himself. 

Those  three  years,  in  which  his  thoughts  of  her 
had  been  prayer,  were  forgotten  ;  all  he  meant  to 
say  to  her,  face  to  face,  heart  to  heart,  man  to  God, 
was  forgotten ;  all  the  solemn  glory  and  whiteness  of 
love  went  out,  as  a  star  in  heaven  might  be  blotted 
from  a  man's  sight  by  the  roar  of  some  hot  fire  here 
on  his  little  earth.  Oh,  love !  love  !  love !  This, 
then,  was  love,  —  this  supremest  expression  of  self  ? 

Philip,  remembering,  his  elbow  on  the  crumbling 
parapet  of  the  bridge,  his  chin  on  his  clenched  hand, 
ground  his  teeth.  Well,  so  it  had  gone.  Looking 
back  upon  it,  he  saw  earnestness  and  ambition 


80  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

and  responsibility  flung  aside ;  he  saw  art  forgotten, 
or  followed  for  the  personal  ends  of  amusement  or 
occupation  ;  he  saw  himself  the  prisoner  of  an  igno 
ble  passion,  hiding  his  chains  behind  *  the  cloak  of 
marriage.  He  knew  every  step  of  the  shameful, 
splendid,  glowing  way.  He  knew  the  ghastly  mo 
ment  when  he  looked  back  at  the  heights  from 
which  he  had  come,  and  recognized  the  dishonor  he 
had  done  to  love  and  the  woman  he  loved.  The  re 
membrance  of  that  moment,  of  that  time  of  anguish 
and  of  struggle,  turned  him  sick  now,  eight  years  af 
terwards  ;  for  it  was  a  year  before  he  awoke,  a  lurid, 
drunken  year,  in  which  he  had  no  thought  of  any 
thing  but  self.  His  awakening  dated  from  their 
first  quarrel  which  had  in  it  anything  deeper  than 
some  selfish  irritation  ;  there  had  been  plenty  of 
such  contentions,  followed  by  equally  selfish  recon 
ciliations.  This  quarrel  had  sprung  from^his  reviv 
ing  determination  to  give  up  his  painting.  Cecil 
had  refused  to  listen  to  anything  so  foolish.  She 
adored  the  life  in  Paris,  a  life  which  had  in  it  all  the 
freedom  of  the  Latin  Quarter  and  all  the  luxury  of 
the  Champs-Elysees.  Her  resistance  woke  the  old 
arguments  for  truth,  the  old  reverence  for  art. 
There  had  been  a  violent  altercation :  Philip,  in  a 
half-dazed  way,  standing  out  for  what,  blindly,  as 
though  through  some  mist  of  memory,  he  knew  to  be 
right ;  Cecil  saying  insolently  that  the  money  was 
hers,  and  she  "  would  not  allow  it." 

"  Then  you  can  stay  by  yourself  !  "  he  had  flung 
back  at  her.     "  I  've  done  with  this  pretense."     And 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  81 

with  a  high  hand  he  had  carried  out  his  wish,  and 
they  had  come  back  to  America. 

That  was  the  beginning.  The  old  ideals  crowded 
upon  him,  and  he  knew  that  he  did  not  desire  them. 
It  was  a  time  of  dreadful  remorse  that  seemed  like 
some  sickness  in  the  very  substance  of  the  soul. 
Then  it  was  that  he  turned  to  his  wife  for  forgive 
ness,  only  to  discover,  with  confusion  and  incredulity 
and  dismay,  that  Cecil  was  not  aware  that  she  had 
anything  to  forgive. 

After  that  came  the  long  struggle  to  waken  her 
dormant  soul,  —  a  struggle  which  amused,  and  then 
bored,  and  at  last  irritated  her  beyond  words.  At 
first  she  endured  it  with  rallying  tenderness  and 
temptation,  and  he  would  fall  for  weeks  or  months 
into  loathful  ease  and  satisfaction  in  the  comfort  of 
his  life  ;  for,  except  when  he  teased  her  with  visions 
and  ecstasies,  Cecil  made  his  life  full  of  lazy  and 
beautiful  comfort.  With  Molly's  birth,  which  came 
just  after  their  return  to  America,  the  revelation  of 
fatherhood  summoned  him  with  solemn  and  irresisti 
ble  voice  to  his  spiritual  manhood.  That  summons 
seemed  to  him  so  conclusive  that  he  found  Cecil's 
deafness  to  it  incredible.  She  loved  the  child  with 
a  fierce  unhumanness  ;  she  caressed  it  in  a  way  that 
made  him  sometimes  turn  away  his  eyes.  Yet, 
through  Molly,  with  kindling  hope,  again  and  again 
and  again  he  appealed  to  her.  He  called  out  with 
anguish  to  something  which  was  dead,  or  had  never 
lived. 

But  they  came  no  closer  together  because  of  the 


82  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

child ;  their  constant  and  bitter  disagreement  con 
cerning  her  training  made  her  little  life  like  a  wedge 
driven  into  the  very  heart  of  their  marriage. 

To  Philip  first  had  come  the  recognition  of  the 
hopelessness  of  the  situation  :  he  had  thought  to  marry 
a  beautiful  soul,  but  had  married  instead  a  beautiful 
body.  The  woman  whom  he  had  loved  had  never 
existed.  The  woman  who  had  for  a  time  chained 
him  to  his  senses,  stifled  his  soul,  insulted  his  heav 
enly  vision,  —  that  woman  he  had  never  loved,  as  he 
counted  love.  And  that  woman  was  his  wife. 

Cecil,  by  and  by,  had  come  to  feel,  with  a  dull 
sense  of  disappointment,  that  love,  by  its  very  na 
ture,  was  a  temporary  and  passing  experience,  but 
she  was  much  too  philosophical  to  be  unhappy.  She 
used  to  look  at  young  lovers  with  some  amusement, 
but  no  bitterness ;  her  life  was  too  comfortable  for 
that.  Besides,  she  did  not  dislike  Philip.  In  those 
first  days,  when  she  had  been  fond  of  him,  and  they 
had  quarreled,  she  had  almost  hated  him ;  but  that 
was  all  past,  and  now  she  was  both  tolerant  and  good 
natured. 

"  How  far  is  a  man's  own  conception  of  duty  to 
weigh  against  accepted  standards  ? "  said  Philip 
Shore  to  himself  again,  looking  down  at  the  swaying 
glimmer  of  the  star.  It  was  very  dark  now  on  the 
bridge ;  it  was  very  silent.  But  the  silence  was 
clamorous  with  incisive  questions :  Is  not  a  man's 
own  conception  of  duty  a  dangerous  and  an  egotistic 
guide  ?  Is  not  obedience  to  an  unwritten  law 
merely  fantastic  and  absurd  when  it  interferes  with 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  83 

all  material  well  being  ;  when  it  robs  a  man  of  a 
home  ;  when  it  bids  him  turn  his  eyes  away  from 
the  beautiful,  unloved  woman  who  is  his  wife  ;  when 
it  even  means  the  possible  renunciation  of  his  child  ? 
Again  and  again  Philip  Shore  had  said  to  himself 
that  such  obedience  was  impossible. 

And  yet,  coming  back  to  the  associations  and 
ideals  of  his  youth,  here  in  his  old  home,  he  recog 
nized,  almost  with  terror,  that  it  was  possible. 
Those  high  demands  spoke  in  all  the  silences  of  his 
luxurious  living :  "  Is  not  marriage  without  love  as 
spiritually  illegal  as  love  without  marriage  is  civilly 
illegal  ?  And  if  it  is,  what  is  your  duty  ?  " 

It  needs  a  brave  man  to  answer  that  question. 


VII. 

Misunderstanding  goes  on  like  a  fallen  stitch  in  a  stocking. 

GOETHE. 

Miss  Susan  Carr's  distress  at  Joseph  Lavendar's 
folly  was  so  genuine  that  she  did  not  strain  the 
truth  when  she  said  she  was  not  well,  and  could  not 
go  to  church,  the  first  Sunday  after  she  had  received 
his  letter.  "No  self-respecting  woman  will  let  a 
man  have  the  chance  to  be  refused,"  said  Miss  Su 
san,  and  she  was  glad  that  a  headache  came  to  her 
assistance  in  saving  Mr.  Lavendar  from  mortification. 

Then  it  occurred  to  her,  as  a  respite,  to  accept  a 
long-standing  invitation  from  some  old  friends  in 
Ashurst,  and  so  escape  the  next  Saturday  and  Sun 
day.  "  But  after  all,"  she  sighed  to  herself  when,  on 
Friday,  she  said  good-by  to  the  Misses  Woodhouse, 
and  turned  her  face  again  towards  Old  Chester, 
"  after  all,  I  can't  be  away  from  home  every  time 
Joseph  Lavendar  is  in  town.  I  suppose  I  've  got  to 
meet  him  some  time.  But  my  manner  shall  show 
him  that  I  'm  not  thinking  of  —  such  things  !  "  She 
was  saying  this  to  herself  as  she  climbed  into  the 
empty  stagecoach  at  Mercer,  and  then  sat  waiting  for 
it  to  start,  and  looking  at  the  rain  streaming  on  the 
window.  "I  will  be  severe,"  said  this  amiable 
woman,  frowning  at  the  vacant  seats  opposite  her  ; 
"  it 's  better  that  Mr.  Joseph  should  think  me  dis- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  85 

agreeable  than  misunderstand  any  mere  friendliness. 
I  could  not  respect  myself  if  I  allowed—  Just 
here  the  stiff  handle  of  the  door  turned  with  a  jerk, 
and  Mr.  Joseph  Lavendar  stepped  into  the  coach. 

"  Oh  dear ! "  said  poor  Miss  Susan,  shrinking 
back  into  her  corner. 

Mr.  Lavendar  sat  down  on  the  middle  seat  of  the 
stage  ;  it  had  a  swinging  strap  for  a  back,  and  was 
quite  narrow  and  far  from  comfortable.  Mr.  Laven 
dar  took  it  for  that  reason;  for  though  the  stage 
was  almost  empty  at  present,  it  would  doubtless  fill 
up,  and  as  a  matter  of  course  Joseph  Lavendar  took 
the  least  desirable  seat.  When  he  looked  up  and 
saw  Miss  Susan  sitting  opposite  him,  he  felt  the 
compensation  which  unselfish  people  are  forever  dis 
covering  in  their  sacrifices. 

"  Why,  my  dear  Miss  Susan  !  "  he  cried.  "  Why, 
this  is  very  delightful,  quite  an  unexpected  pleasure. 
I  feared  that  your  visit  was  to  be  prolonged  over 
another  Sunday." 

"  I  did  think  of  it,"  said  Miss  Susan  faintly. 
("  If  nobody  else  gets  in,  I  will  get  out,"  she  decided 
desperately ;  "  I  '11  say  I  forgot  something,  I  '11  say 
I  'm  ill  —  I  '11  —  oh,  how  can  he  be  going  to  Old 
Chester  on  Friday?") 

Perhaps  the  distress  in  her  face  asked  the  ques 
tion  ;  at  all  events,  he  began,  cheerfully,  to  explain 
his  presence.  One  of  his  little  pupils  was  ill,  — 
poor  dear  child  !  a  most  pleasing  child ;  a  son  of 
poor  Thomas  Townsend.  Miss  Susan  recalled 
Thomas  Townsend  ?  He  died  some  fifteen  years 


86  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

ago  ;  he  was  a  relative  of  —  of  our  friend  Mrs. 
Pendleton.  "  But  as  his  illness  is  not  serious,  I  can 
be  grateful  for  the  opportunity,  which  I  very  much 
appreciate  (as  you  know,  my  dear  Miss  Susan),  to 
spend  an  extra  day  in  Old  Chester." 

Miss  Carr  began,  nervously,  to  gather  up  her  um 
brella  and  bags.  "  I  think  I  must  —  "  she  said  hur 
riedly,  but  paused,  and  fell  back  into  her  corner 
again,  for  a  large  lady,  in  a  tight  black  alpaca,  was 
climbing,  laboriously  and  with  panting  breath,  into 
the  coach.  "  He  can't  speak  now,"  thought  Miss 
Susan,  relieved  but  unhappy. 

The  stage  sagged  forward,  and  started  with  a 
swaying  jog  ;  the  rain  clattered  on  its  ribbed  top, 
and  on  the  rubber  aprons  that  covered  the  trunks 
piled  at  the  back ;  and  its  three  occupants  resigned 
themselves  to  that  peculiar  jolting  discomfort  which 
only  the  inside  rider  knows. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Mr.  Lavendar  pleasantly; 
"  you  have  no  later  Old  Chester  news  than  I  have 
myself  ?  In  fact,  I  have  the  most  recent,  as  I  only 
left  town  on  Monday.  But  you  can  tell  me  some 
thing  about  our  friends  in  Ashurst.  I  trust  they  are 
all  well?" 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Susan  assured  him,  and  made  haste 
to  repeat  all  the  Ashurst  gossip  she  could  think  of. 

The  large  lady,  whose  chins  were  in  terraces,  was 
swaying  about  in  her  corner,  as  the  coach  swung  and 
lurched,  but  she  was  so  comfortably  protected  by  her 
personality  that  she  was  able  to  doze  a  little,  though 
sometimes,  at  a  decided  jolt,  her  eyes  would  spring 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  87 

sharply  open,  and  then  drop  shut  again.  Miss  Su 
san  looked  at  her  imploringly ;  if  Mr.  Joseph  should 
see  that  she  had  fallen  asleep,  what  might  not  hap 
pen  ? 

"  I  was  sorry  not  to  see  you  last  week,"  Mr.  Lav- 
endar  said,  when  Miss  Susan  came  to  a  pause  in  her 
Ashurst  reminiscences ;  "  and  the  week  before  you 
were  indisposed,  Lyssie  told  me.  I  was  much  disap 
pointed." 

Miss  Susan  murmured  her  apologies  for  having 
missed  the  choir  practicing.  She  searched  her  mem 
ory  desperately  for  further  Ashurst  news,  but  no 
thing  presented  itself. 

Mr.  Laveiidar  lifted  his  left  leg  across  his  right 
knee,  and  looked  at  it  critically,  brushing  a  little 
dust  from  the  neat  brown  broadcloth. 

"  I  was  very  much  in  hopes  to  have  had  a  short 
—  ah  —  conversation  with  you,  my  dear  Miss 
Susan,"  he  said ;  and  then,  the  color  mounting  in 
his  face,  he  added,  "  You  received  my  letter,  of 
course  ?  " 

Susan  Carr  dared  not  look  at  him.  Was  he  go 
ing  to  —  here?  in  a  stagecoach?  "Letter?"  she 
said.  "  Oh  yes,  I  jelieve  I  did.  Don't  you  think 
we  had  better  open  a  window  ?  It 's  quite  warm. 
At  least,  if  it  will  not  inconvenience  this  other 
lady,"  said  Miss  Susan,  raising  her  voice,  so  that 
Mr.  Lavendar  was  quite  startled,  and  their  fellow- 
passenger  opened  her  eyes  in  a  sleepy  gleam. 

"It  is  warm,"  Mr.  Joseph  agreed,  and  he  tugged 
at  the  window  strap  with  an  energy  which  made  his 


88  PHILIP  slND  HIS  WIFE. 

face  red,  and  wakened  the  stout  lady  so  thoroughly 
that  she  sat  up  for  a  moment  and  looked  about  with 
frowning  surprise.  Then  a  gust  of  cold,  wet  air 
blew  in  upon  the  swaying,  pitching  occupants  of  the 
coach,  and  Susan  Carr  wondered  if  it  would  not  keep 
her  protector  awake.  "  How  fresh  and  delightful 
the  air  is,  ma'am !  "  she  said  to  the  lady  pleadingly. 

"  It 's  damp,"  returned  the  other,  and  closed  her 
eyes. 

"  My  letter  did  not  call  for  a  reply,"  Mr.  Laven- 
dar  proceeded,  in  a  low  and  confidential  voice,  "  but 
I  thought  I  should  have  seen  you  before  this.  There 
is  so  much  I  want  to  say,"  he  ended  simply. 

"  A  man  who  talks  on  such  subjects  in  a  stage 
coach  must  be  —  very  much  so,"  thought  Miss  Susan 
despairingly.  "  But  I  won't  let  him  !  "  And,  with 
this  determination,  she  burst  into  eager  and  emphatic 
views  about  the  weather.  The  rain  beating  against 
the  closed  windows  made  the  landscape  waver  and 
glimmer ;  the  woods  were  gray  with  mist,  and  the 
streams  under  the  creaking  wooden  bridges  were 
swollen  and  laced  with  tangles  of  foam. 

"  I  think  this  is  the  equinoctial,"  announced  Miss 
Susan. breathlessly.  "  Just  see  how  it  pours  !  And 
the  wind  is  very  high !  .  And  did  you  notice,  as  we 
crossed  the  river,  that  the  water  was  up  to  the  mid 
dle  of  the  pier,  and  —  Here,  to  Miss  Susan's  joy, 
the  other  traveler  awoke,  and  found  the  subject  so 
interesting  that  she  too  expressed  her  opinion,  while 
Mr.  Lavendar  said  protectingly,  "  It 's  only  a  pass 
ing  shower,  ladies,  —  a  passing  shower,"  and  watched 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  89 

patiently  for  a  chance  to  go  back  to  the  subject  which 
was  plainly  uppermost  in  his  mind. 

As  for  Miss  Susan,  remembering  her  one  experi 
ence  in  love-making,  recalling  Donald's  quiet,  mat 
ter  of  fact  affection,  his  tranquil  yielding  to  circum 
stances,  she  felt  this  intensity  on  the  part  of  Joseph 
with  a  certain  quickening  of  the*  heart.  "  Oh,  I 
wish  he  would  n't,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  for  this  will 
spoil  everything,  though  we  Ve  been  friends  all  these 
years."  She  was  almost  ready  to  cry  with  the 
trouble  and  worry  bf  it ;  and  when  at  last,  damp  and 
tired,  she  reached  home,  and  sat  down  in  the  dining- 
room  to  her  solitary  cup  of  tea,  the  tears  really  did 
stand  in  her  kind  eyes.  In  her  thoughts  she  went 
over  Mr.  Lavendar's  looks  and  words  in  the  coach, 
and  the  result  of  her  meditations  was  that  another 
Saturday  afternoon's  practice  passed,  and  "  Miss  Su 
san  was  a  little  under  the  weather,  and  couldn't 
come."  That  the  robust  Susan  Carr  should  be  in 
disposed  began  to  be  food  for  comment  in  Old  Ches 
ter.  Alicia  Drayton,  as  she  walked  down  to  the 
church  to  go  over  the  hymns  for  the  next  day  with 
Mr.  Lavendar,  wondered  a  little  about  it.  "  Why, 
this  is  the  third  time  she  's  missed  the  practicing !  " 
said  Lyssie  to  herself  ;  and  then  an  absent  look  came 
into  her  eyes,  and  she  thought  110  more  about  Miss 
Susan. 

The  rain  of  the  day  before  had  washed  the  July 
dust  from  the  roadside  weeds  and  grasses ;  the  trees, 
all  in  a  shining  rustle  with  the  fresh  wind,  made 
pretty  shadows  on  the  path,  and  the  lines  of  moss 


90  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

between  the  flagstones  were  like  strips  of  green  vel 
vet.  The  very  air  seemed  washed  and  shining  and 
full  of  the  Saturday  afternoon  feeling,  —  the  feeling 
of  order  and  cleanliness  and  readiness  for  the  mor 
row. 

Alicia,  with  her  green  singing-book  under  her 
arm,  glanced  along  the  river  road.  "  Will  he  come 
before  we  begin  to  practice  ? "  she  said  to  herself. 
Ah,  what  chance  for  sympathy  have  elderly  ladies 
with  headaches  when  such  questions  come  into  a 
girl's  mind  ?  She  stood  a  moment  on  the  threshold 
of  the  church,  looking  out  at  the  sunshine,  and  hear 
ing  Mr.  Lavendar  up  in  the  organ  loft  pulling  out 
the  stops  and  running  his  fingers  along  the  keys. 

"  Miss  Susan  is  n't  coming  this  afternoon,  Mr. 
Joseph,"  she  said,  as  she  pushed  open  the  little  baize 
door  of  the  loft ;  "  she  is  n't  very  well ;  so  you  and 
Mr.  Tommy  and  I  will  have  to  practice  by  ourselves ;  " 
and  then  she  nodded  pleasantly  at  the  other  member 
of  the  choir,  who,  with  his  spectacles  on,  was  poring 
over  a  manuscript  of  music. 

"  Dear,  dear,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  she  is  indis 
posed,"  said  Mr.  Joseph  ;  "  exceedingly  sorry.  Will 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  say  so  to  her,  Lyssie,  if  you  see 
her  this  evening ;  say  I  had  meant  to  call,  but,  as 
she  is  indisposed,  I  will  not  intrude  ? "  But  he 
sighed  as  he  spoke,  and  then  he  pivoted  round  on  the 
long  wooden  bench  to  his  organ  ;  his  feet,  searching 
for  the  keyboard,  made  a  muffled  sound  in  the  listen 
ing  silence  of  the  church.  Down  below,  the  cheer 
ful  red  cushions  on  the  seats  were  all  turned  over  to 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  91 

preserve  their  color,  and  the  chancel  was  ghostly  with 
white  covers  on  the  altar  and  the  reading-desk; 
there  was  the  scent  of  Prayer  Books  and  dust,  with 
strange,  wandering  hints  of  flowers  which  had  lain 
here  with  the  dead  all  these  years,  or  denied  death 
on  Easter  mornings. 

From  a  little  round  window  high  in  the  wall  be 
hind  the  organ  a  bar  of  yellow  sunlight  shot  down 
into  the  dusk :  it  threaded  its  noiseless  way  among 
the  singing-books  upon  the  benches ;  it  struck  a  sud 
den  sparkle  from  the  ring  on  Mr.  Tommy's  thin, 
veined  hand  as  he  held  his  music-book  close  to  his 
eyes ;  and  it  shone  through  the  soft  hair  about 
Alicia  Drayton's  forehead,  turning  it  into  a  delicate 
aureole  of  light  around  the  shadowed  seriousness  of 
her  face.  She  had  been  listening  for  a  hand  on  the 
outer  door  of  the  church,  a  step  on  the  graveled 
path,  and  she  had  even  suggested  timidly  to  Mr. 
Lavendar  that  —  that  perhaps  the  church  door  was 
locked,  and  perhaps  —  some  one  was  trying  to  get 
in  ?  Mr.  Lavendar  said  mildly,  "  You  came  in  last, 
Lyssie ;  did  you  lock  it  ?  Then  of  course  it  is  n't 
fastened.  Miss  Susan  can  get  in,  if  she  changes  her 
mind  and  wishes  to  come." 

"  Oh  yes,  so  she  can !  "  Lyssie  answered.  But 
still  she  listened. 

Yet  when  Roger  Carey  did  slip  in,  closing  the 
door  gently  behind  him,  and  starting  the  muffled 
echo  of  the  empty  church,  Alicia,  singing,  the  sun 
making  that  powdery  halo  around  her  head,  did  not 
hear  him,  and  he  looked  up  and  saw  her,  and  the 


92  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

young  fellow's  clear,  positive,  honest  eyes  filled  sud 
denly  with  a  reverence  which  the  church  itself  had 
not  brought  into  them. 

When  Lyssie  saw  him  there  was  a  tremor  in  her 
pretty  voice ;  which  is  natural  enough  in  any  nice 
girl's  voice  when  she  finds  that  somebody  is  listening 
to  her.  This,  not  being  a  conceited  man,  was  the 
explanation  Roger  Carey  made  to  himself  while  he 
waited  for  the  practicing  to  end.  He  sat  in  one  of 
the  square  pews,  which  had  a  straight,  uncomfort 
able  back  covered  with  prickly  red  cloth,  and  a 
door  whose  lifting  brass  catch  had  doubtless  invited 
many  of  those  idle  fingers  for  which  Satan,  even 
in  Old  Chester,  finds  some  mischief  still.  Roger 
Carey's  fingers  began  to  lift  it  now,  and  then  to  let 
it  fall  with  a  clatter,  while  he  wished  Mr.  Lavendar 
would  not  try  "  We  praise,  thee,  O  God !  "  for  a 
fifth  time,  and  while  he  thought,  smiling  to  himself, 
of  this  or  that  which  Miss  Alicia  Drayton  had  said 
to  him.  Her  quaint  truthfulness,  her  enchanting 
modesty  in  matters  of  opinion,  her  wisdom  unto  that 
which  was  good,  her  simplicity  concerning  evil,  had 
delighted  him  as  he  had  come  to  know  her  better. 
When  he  watched  her  or  listened  to  her,  it  was  with 
the  pleasure  of  the  man  who  has  found  something- 
new.'  But  he  said  to  himself  that  he  was  not  in  love 
with  her.  Certainly,  his  appreciation  of  her  sweet 
young  womanhood  was  of  the  nature  of  his  apprecia 
tion  of  a  limpid  morning  in  spring,  or  of  a  star,  or 
of  the  pathos  of  innocence  and  happiness  in  a  child's 
face,  rather  than  that  more  selfish  appreciation  which 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  93 

comes  when  a  man  is  falling  in  love.  Roger  Carey 
was  profoundly  stirred  and  happy ;  he  felt  lifted  up 
to  good  things.  But  he  was  not,  he  said  to  himself, 
"  in  love  with  her." 

He  was  impatient  for  the  practicing  to  cease ;  he 
liked  to  hear  her  pretty  voice,  but  he  liked  better 
to  see  her  and  to  hear  her  talk.  As  he  sat  waiting 
for  her,  smiling  now  and  then  at  some  thought  of  her, 
and  playing  with  the  little  brass  catch  on  the  pew 
door,  he  read  the  inscriptions  on  the  two  or  three 
tablets  on  the  walls,  and  that  upon  the  brass  plate 
in  the  chancel,  in  memory  of  the  first  minister  of  the 
church,  —  his  name,  his  virtues,  and  the  exhortation 
to  "  mark  the  perfect  man,"  and  after  that  those  two 
dates  which  bound  with  solemn  meaning  the  weakest 
or  the  meanest  of  lives,  the  dates  of  birth  and  death. 
The  empty  church,  the  silent  tread  of  the  light  from 
the  window  in  the  organ  loft  up  the  aisle  and  across 
the  chancel,  the  moving  shadows  of  the  leaves  out 
side,  and,  through  all,  Alicia's  voice,  "  O  Lord,  in 
tJiee  have  I  trusted  ;  let  me  never  be  confounded," 
—  all  these  things,  the  scene,  the  waiting,  the  old 
and  beautiful  words,  fell  into  the  young  man's  heart 
with  a  strange  touch  of  melancholy,  and  his  face  was 
serious  when  he  met  Lyssie  at  the  door  and  they 
went  out  into  the  sunset. 

It  was  pretty  to  see  these  two  young  people  to 
gether,  and  to  mark  the  change  that  each  produced 
in  the  other.  Lyssie's  shy  anxiety,  the  anxiety  that 
a  girl  just  beginning  to  fall  in  love  feels,  and  does 
not  understand,  —  a  desire  to  seem  her  best,  to 


94  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

please,  to  win,  all  the  little  humility  that,  when  she 
is  alone,  makes  her  sigh  and  say  to  herself  that  she 
means  to  try  to  improve,  —  all  that  was  gone  in 
a  flash,  and  instead  there  was  a  soft  arrogance,  a 
charming  girlish  imperiousness,  and  such  joyousness  ! 

Roger  Carey  seemed  to  have  acquired  all  that 
Lyssie  put  aside  ;  his  impulsive  dogmatism  and  care 
less  good  nature  and  frank  criticism  were  lost,  and 
in  their  place  was  a  humbleness  which  was  new  to 
him,  and  an  enchanting  sense  of  delight  in  the 
sweetness  of  this  young  creature  ;  he  wanted  to  hear 
her  talk,  to  see  her  smile,  to  protect  her,  to  care  for 
her.  It  was  rather  the  feeling  of  the  discoverer 
than  the  more  serious  joy  of  being  himself  discovered. 

They  did  not  go  home  at  once,  but  wandered 
about  in  the  churchyard  and  talked  to  each  other. 
Once  they  grew  so  earnest  that  they  stopped,  and 
Lyssie  sat  down  on  an  old  tomb  that  stood  like  a 
low  granite  table  under  the  shadow  of  a  tulip-tree. 
She  wore  a  little  gray-and-white-striped  gingham, 
and  she  had  a  bunch  of  laburnum  in  her  belt.  She 
took  off  her  hat,  and  sat  leaning  her  open  palm  on 
the  lichen-covered  name,  looking  up  at  Roger  Carey 
with  candid  eyes  of  that  color  which  lies  on  distant 
hills,  and  is  neither  blue  nor  violet.  The  sunshine 
touched  her  face  and  dress ;  a  leaf  shadow  swung 
back  and  forth  across  her  hand  and  over  the  asser 
tion  of  endless  love  and  grief  on  the  old  stone  ;  and 
there  they  talked  and  listened,  and  looked  and  lived. 

It  was  the  usual  talk :  the  girl's  tentative  expres 
sions  of  opinion  on  great  subjects  ;  the  man's  instant 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 


95 


acquiescence  in  them ;  the  mutual  astonishment  at 
their  unity  of  thought. 

"  You  think  so,  too  ?  Why,  how  strange  !  I  've 
always  felt  that." 

"You  would  rather  see  Egypt  than  any  other 
country  in  the  world  ?  How  odd  that  is !  Do  you 
know,  I  Ve  always  said  I  'd  rather  go  to  Egypt  than 
any  place  else." 

"  You  really  feel  that  a  lie  is  the  only  thing  you 
couldn't  forgive,  Mr.  Carey?  Well,  if  I  couldn't 
forgive  everything,  —  forgiveness  is  n't  hard  to  me, 
—  why,  I  think  I  should  draw  the  line  at  a  lie  !" 

Ah,  well,  well,  it  is  the  old,  beautiful  story.  We 
laugh  at  the  two  souls  and  the  single  thought ;  the 
conviction  of  the  glorious  and  harmonious  future, 
built  up  in  a  moment,  because  views  of  Shakespeare 
and  the  musical  glasses  coincide ;  but  all  the  same, 
it  is  a  divine  time  and  a  true  time,  and  it  does  sur 
vive  ! 


VIII. 

We  are  such  friends,  my  little  girl  and  I, 
That,  tho'  her  summers  scarcely  number  nine, 
I  need  none  other  as  I  go  my  ways, 
With  her  small  fingers  closely  clasping  mine. 

A  little  world  we  two  make  of  our  own, 
And  people  it  with  all  things  fair  and  sweet  ; 
The  stars  that  twinkle  overhead  at  night 
Drop  down  at  dawn  in  daisies  at  our  feet. 

BKOWN. 

EVERYBODY  watched  little  Lyssie's  romance  with 
approval  and  interest,  for  Old  Chester  loved  her. 
It  had  been  recognized  as  a  romance  the  moment  it 
was  known  that  Mr.  Carey's  two  weeks'  visit  was  to 
be  prolonged  to  three,  and  then  to  four. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  very  much,"  he  said  eagerly, 
when  Mrs.  Shore  first  proposed  that  he  should  stay 
another  week  ;  "  I  '11  be  delighted  to."  And  then 
he  added,  rather  ruefully,  "  I  might  just  as  well, 
since  you  are  good  enough  to  ask  me  ;  for  the  fact 
is,  I  have  n't  anything  on  hand  just  now."  That  a 
client  might  knock  at  his  door  in  his  absence  did  not 
seem  to  trouble  him,  and  Cecil,  smiling  to  herself  at 
the  confession  of  his  prompt  acceptance,  did  not  re 
mind  him  of  it.  Indeed,  his  visit  had  done  so  much 
to  relieve  the  intolerable  dullness  of  Old  Chester 
that  she  was  glad  he  was  going  to  stay.  "  Even  his 
impudence  is  refreshing,"  she  thought ;  for  she  had 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIF^.  97 

winced  once  or  twice  under  some  blunt  expression  of 
his  opinion. 

Still,  such  rudeness  showed  itself  only  at  the 
beginning  of  any  conversation  they  might  have ; 
towards  the  end,  admiration  would,  for  the  time, 
thrust  out  the  dislike  which  was,  oddly  enough,  his 
real,  sober  feeling  for  Miss  Drayton's  sister.  He 
felt  this  dislike  more  keenly  when  he  saw  them  to 
gether  ;  indeed,  he  did  not  like  to  see  them  together. 
Alicia  seemed  just  a  little  childish,  in  the  presence 
of  this  strong,  clever  woman.  Nevertheless,  Roger 
Carey  was  too  glad  to  talk  to  little  Miss  Drayton  to 
slight  any  chance  of  seeing  her,  whether  it  was  in 
Mrs.  Shore's  presence  or  not ;  and  he  certainly 
would  not  have  taken  Eric  out  for  a  run  on  the 
hills,  one  charming  morning,  had  he  known  that 
Lyssie  was  coming  up  to  her  sister's  at  that  very 
hour.  He  had  left  Mrs.  Shore  struggling  to  make 
up  her  mind  to  pay  the  inevitable  calls  which  were 
the  price  of  a  visit  to  Old  Chester,  and  he  had  ad 
vised  her,  gayly,  to  find  out  when  people  were  to  be 
away  from  home  ;  then,  whistling  to  Eric,  he  had 
tramped  off  into  the  sunshine,  thinking  with  satisfac 
tion  how  incapable  Miss  Lyssie  Drayton  would  be 
of  any  such  forethought. 

Mrs.  Shore,  however,  had  scarcely  required  his 
instruction. 

"  Tell  me,  Lys,"  she  said,  as,  with  Molly  clinging 
to  her  hand,  she  walked  down  the  path  to  meet  her 
sister,  4'  when  does  the  next  sewing  society  meet  ?  " 
Then  she  put  her  finger  under  the  girl's  chin  and 


98  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

lifted  her  fresh  young  face,  and  kissed  her.  "  Mr. 
Carey  has  gone  off  to  exercise  Eric,"  she  added 
significantly. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  hope  he  will  do  it  properly,"  Alicia 
returned,  her  head  high ;  but  she  laughed  and 
blushed.  "  What  do  you  want  to  know  about  the 
sewing  society  for?  Do  you  mean  to  go?"  She 
slipped  her  arm  about  her  sister's  waist,  and  brushed 
her  cheek  against  her  shoulder.  Lyssie  smiled 
readily  in  those  summer  days ;  it  seemed  such  hap 
piness  to  be  alive ;  she  had  recognized  no  other 
cause  for  happiness,  either  in  herself  or  in  Roger 
Carey.  It  is  generally  so  with  a  girl ;  the  spoken 
word  has  to  fall  like  some  subtle  chemical  into  the 
luminous  nebula  of  bliss,  to  crystallize  it  into  a  jewel 
that  she  can  recognize,  and  claim,  and  wear  as  the 
crown  of  life.  Alicia's  bubble  of  laughter  at  her 
sister's  interest  in  the  sewing  society  was  only  this 
vague  happiness  seeking  expression. 

"  I  go  ?  Lyssie !  I  must  make  my  manners  to  all 
the  old  ladies,  and  I  wanted  to  know  when  I  could 
call  with  safety." 

"  Oh,  Ceci !  "  Alicia  remonstrated.  "  Indeed,  I 
won't  tell  you  ;  you  shall  find  them  all  at  home." 

"  But  mamma  does  n't  want  to  see  them,  aunt 
Lyssie ;  that 's  why  she  goes  when  they  are  out," 
Molly  explained,  astonished  at  her  aunt's  dullness. 

Cecil  laughed.     "  Intelligent  Molly  !  "  she  said. 

The  two  sisters  and  the  child  had  come  along  the 
flagged  walk  below  the  terrace  to  the  pool,  which 
was  almost  hidden  now  by  water-plants.  The  flags 


PHILIP   AND  HIS  WIFE.  99 

ended  in  three  mossy  steps  leading  down  to  the 
water's  edge.  Two  ancient  Lombardy  poplars  stood 
here,  with  gnarled  trunks,  and  mournful  breaks  of 
dead  branches  through  their  dark  foliage.  They 
made  a  spot  of  shade  on  the  sunny,  faintly  undu 
lating  expanse  of  shimmering  lily  leaves.  A  frog 
splashed  from  the  bank  at  the  sound  of  footsteps, 
and  made  for  a  moment  a  widening,  rocking  circle 
on  the  still  surface.  Molly  was  instantly  desirous 
of  catching  him,  but  her  mother  said  'peremptorily, 
"  No.  Now  don't  bother  me,  precious,  or  you  '11 
have  to  go  into  the  nursery.  Sit  down  here  beside 
mamma.  Lyssie,  is  there  anything  so  important  in 
one's  domestics  as  health  ?  The  honest,  temperate, 
capable  young  woman  amounts  to  nothing  compared 
to  the  robust  one  !  Molly's  Rosa  is  ill,  and  I,  in 
one  of  those  moments  of  rash  good  nature  that  we 
all  have  at  times,  and  on  which  we  look  back  with 
such  astonishment,  —  I  said  I  'd  take  Molly  to  walk 
this  morning.  Did  n't  I,  you  nuisance  ?  "  And 
she  drew  the  child's  head  down  upon  her  lap  and 
mumbled  her  little  neck  with  kisses. 

They  were  sitting  on  an  old  stone  seat  between 
the  two  poplars  ;  the  sunshine,  sifting  down,  touched 
Cecil's  head,  and  flecked  Lyssie' s  cotton  gown,  and 
shone  into  Molly's  eyes  until  she  said  she  did  not  like 
it,  and  wished  mamma  would  go  to  walk.  u  Any 
where,"  Molly  urged.  "  You  said  you  would !  " 

"  It 's  too  hot,  Polly.  Yes,  Rosa  has  been  creep 
ing  about  with  a  white  face  for  two  days.  So  an 
noying  to  see  her." 


100  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Lyssie  was  full  of  sympathy  for  Rosa.  Had  Dr. 
King  seen  her  ?  What  was  the  matter  ? 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  Cecil  answered  impatiently ;  "  a 
little  feverish,  perhaps.  Of  course  I  have  n't  sent 
for  the  doctor.  One  might  as  well  start  a  hospital 
at  once  as  keep  five  or  six  women.  They  always 
have  something  the  matter  with  them,  —  or  they 
think  they  have."  And  then  she  began  to  tease  and 
cuddle  Molly,  until  the  clang  of  the  iron  gate  at  the 
end  of  the  garden  broke  in  upon  the  child's  laugh 
ing  cries ;  and  Cecil,  leaning  backwards,  glanced 
through  the  shrubbery.  "  '  Good  Lord,  deliver 
us  !  '  she  said,  under  her  breath,  "  it 's  Mrs.  Dale. 
She  has  come  to  tell  me  her  opinion  of  young  women 
who  don't  call  upon  their  elders  and  betters !  But  I 
was  going  ;  you  '11  bear  witness  to  that,  Lys  ?  " 

"  Yes,  when  she  was  at  the  sewing  society," 
Alicia  returned,  with  malice. 

Cecil  slipped  Molly  down  on  her  feet.  "  Molly, 
my  angel,  run !  Say  to  that  lady  that  mamma  is 
not  at  home ;  say  I  've  gone  clown  to  the  village. 
Run !  She  has  n't  seen  us,  and  you  can  meet  her  at 
the  front  door." 

Molly  went,  with  the  matter  of  fact  obedience  that 
found  such  a  command  no  surprise. 

"  Why,  Cecil !  "  cried  Alicia  Drayton. 

"  What  ?  '  Not  at  home  '  ?  Oh,  Lyssie,  what  a 
funny  little  thing  you  are  !  " 

"  But  Molly  ?  "  Alicia  protested,  her  eyes  widen 
ing  with  dismay. 

"  Oh,  you  really  are  delightful,"  Cecil  said,  much 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  101 

amused,  looking  at  her  with  kind  eyes.  "  How  very 
far  from  the  madding  crowd  you  have  lived  !  " 

"  But,  Ceci,  I  'm  —  horrified.     To  tell  MoUy  —  " 

Cecil  put  her  hand  suddenly,  softly,  over  her 
sister's  lips.  "  Fault-finding  is  the  wind  that  blows 
to  the  Place-we-don't-believe-in,  and  it  sends  more 
people  there  than  anything  else.  Do  be  quiet. 
Look !  there  is  Mr.  Carey." 

Philip  and  Roger,  with  Eric  at  their  heels,  were 
crossing  the  meadow  on  the  further  side  of  the  pool. 
When  the  two  men  reached  the  stone  seat  under 
the  poplars,  Lyssie's  face  was  still  so  serious  that 
Roger  Carey  looked  blank. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  's  offended  ?  "  he  thought,  frown 
ing.  "  I  wonder  if  Mrs.  Shore  has  been  saying  nasty 
things  about  me  ?  Why,  she 's  hardly  smiled !  " 
And  he  himself  hardly  smiled,  while  Cecil  told  him 
how  Mglly  had  come  to  the  rescue  and  dismissed 
Mrs.  Dale. 

"  But  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  my  sister's  hor 
ror,"  she  ended  gayly. 

Roger  sat  down  on  the  grass,  and  Eric  squatted 
behind  him,  leaning  his  chin  on  the  young  man's 
shoulder,  and  blinking  his  honest  yellow  eyes  at 
Philip,  who  was  talking  to  Alicia.  Philip  did  not 
look  at  his  wife  until  she  said,  breaking  into  some 
thing  she  was  telling  Mr.  Carey,  "There,  Polly, 
don't  lean  on  mamma.  Come !  run  and  tell  Rosa 
she  really  must  take  you  out  to  walk." 

"  No,  you  take  me  ;  you  promised,"  Molly  teased. 
"  Rosa  's  sick ;  she  says  she  feels  —  " 


102  PHILIP   AND   HIS  WIFE. 

But  Mrs.  Shore  was  not  interested  in  Rosa's  feel 
ings.  "  My  little  Polly,  I  adore  you,  —  you  are  an 
angel ;  but  don't  bore  me.  Run  along,  like  a  good 
child." 

"  I  will  take  you  to  walk,  Molly,"  said  Philip  over 
his  shoulder. 

Cecil  leaned  her  head  back  and  laughed.  "  Philip 
never  surprises  one.  Of  course  he  '11  take  Molly  to 
walk  !  " 

"  Is  Rosa  really  ill  ?  "  her  husband  asked.  "  Shall 
I  send  King  up  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  want  to.  I  suppose  we  ought  to 
make  sure  it  is  nothing  contagious,"  Mrs.  Shore 
said  indolently. 

Roger  Carey  looked  as  though  about  to  whistle, 
but  checked  himself,  and  eased  his  mind  by  pulling 
Eric's  ears  until  the  amiable  dog  squealed,  and  then 
licked  his  hand,  as  if  apologizing  for  having  allowed 
his  emotions  to  overcome  him. 

Philip  was  indifferent,  apparently,  to  the  nature 
of  his  wife's  consent.  "  Very  well,  I  '11  tell  him  to 
come  up.  Come  along,  Molly."  And  he  whistled 
to  Eric,  and  started  toward  the  village. 

"  Philip's  goodness  leaves  nothing  to  the  imagina 
tion,"  murmured  Cecil. 

"  I  have  known  people  who  left  it  all  to  the  im 
agination,"  Mr.  Carey  observed. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  be  epigrammatic,  I  shall 
leave  you,"  his  hostess  assured  him. 

"  Oh,  are  you  going  in  ?  "  Roger  said  cheerfully, 
rising  as  she  rose,  but  instantly  sitting  down  again 
to  talk  to  Miss  Dray  ton. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  103 

Cecil  laughed,  but  the  color  came  into  her  face  as 
she  went  back  alone  to  the  house. 

As  for  Philip,  he  walked  along  with  Molly,  his 
face  grim  with  the  restraint  he  had  put  upon  himself 
in  the  talk  by  the  pool. 

"To  deliberately  tell  the  child  to  lie!"  he  was 
thinking ;  and  then  he  told  Molly  that  he  was  going 
.to  take  her  into  the  woods.  "  You  '11  like  that, 
won't  you,  old  lady?  "  he  asked  absently. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  Molly,  "  let 's  go  to  the  woods  ! 
Mamma  promised  she  would  take  me  last  week,  but 
she  did  n't.  And  can  I  pick  some  flowers  for  her  ? 
And  shall  we  watch  the  ants  carry  their  babies  into 
the  sun  to  keep  them  warm?  Oh,  and,  father,  will 
you  tell  me  the  story  you  told  me  when  I  had  the 
measles,  about  the  man  who  rode  to  the  moon  on  a 
wooden  horse  ?  And,  father  —  Her  little,  bub 

bling  flood  of  questions  caressed  his  ear. 

"  Yes  ;  yes  ;  yes,"  Philip  answered  blindly,  as  she 
seemed  to  expect.  His  indignation  at  Cecil's  care 
lessness  about  Molly's  truth-telling  deepened  into  a 
bitter  sense  of  his  own  helplessness  to  protect  the 
child.  This  sort  of  thing  was  always  going  on.  So 
far  as  Cecil  was  concerned,  Molly  knew  nothing  of 
the  sacrediiess  of  a  promise  ;  the  duty  and  grace  of 
kindliness  to  inferiors  she  had  never  seen  ;  truthful 
ness,  according  to  her  mother,  was  always  secondary 
to  good  manners,  and,  in  consequence,  a  matter  of 
expediency.  Cecil  caressed  or  punished  the  child 
with  the  most  absolute  selfishness,  and  lived  her  own 
life  without  a  thought  of  the  responsibility  of  example. 


104  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Any  protest  from  the  unloving  husband  to  the  un 
loving  wife  only  made  matters  worse,  by  adding  to 
carelessness  the  deliberateness  of  antagonism.  The 
effect  of  all  this  upon  Molly  wasr  of  course,  de 
plorable. 

The  child  of  unloving  parents,  illegitimate  in  a 
deep  and  terrible  sense,  —  for  love  is  the  fulfilling  of 
the  law,  —  suffers,  as  whatever  is  in  opposition  to 
law,  human  or  divine,  must  always  suffer. 

Philip  said  to  himself  that  this  little  human  soul, 
this  little  child  of  his,  had  wandered  into  a  home 
polluted  by  the  presence  of  the  dreadful  dead  body 
of  Love  ;  and  if  a  man  fears  corruption  and  its 
train  of  disease  for  his  child  physically,  what  must  he 
feel  for  a  corruption  which  may  taint  her  spiritually  ? 
He  held  Molly's  hand  in  his  in  a  rigid  grasp. 

"  Oh,  father,  you  hurt  my  hand  !  "  she  cried,  pull 
ing  it  away  from  him,  and  dancing  on  in  front  of 
him,  across  the  upland  meadow  toward  the  woods ; 
then  she  ran  back  to  adorn  the  lapel  of  his  coat  with 
a  stalk  of  early  goldenrod.  "  Tell  me  the  wooden- 
horse  story  now ! " 

"  Oh,  not  now,"  Philip  objected.  "  I  '11  tell  you 
what  will  be  nice ;  let 's  sit  down  here,  and  father  '11 
smoke,  and  you  shall  tell  him  a  story." 

"  That  would  be  nice  for  father,"  Molly  said,  push 
ing  out  her  lips,  "  but  it  would  n't  be  very  interest 
ing  for  me." 

"  Oh,  but  to  entertain  me  ?  You  did  n't  think  of 
that,"  he  reminded  her. 

Such  confidence  in  her  amiability  could  have  only 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  105 

the  desired  effect,  though  she  qualified  her  consent 
by  the  condition  that  they  should  tell  the  story 
together ;  for  collaboration  was  a  frequent  amuse 
ment  of  these  two  friends. 

Philip  scratched  a  match  on  a  stone,  shielding  the 
spurt  of  flame  with  a  curving  hand  ;  then  he  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  stretched  himself  out  on  his  back,  his 
hands  under  his  head  and  his  hat  pulled  over  his 
eyes.  "  All  right,"  he  said.  "  Go  ahead." 

"  No  !  You  begin,"  Molly  insisted  anxiously. 
And  with  a  little  sigh  Philip  resigned  himself  to 
fiction. 

It  was  a  still  July  morning  ;  the  leaves  overhead 
moved  slightly  back  and  forth  across  a  sky  that  was 
deeply  blue  and  cloudless ;  there  was  a  flickering 
play  of  shadows  on  the  grass  and  moss.  Down  in 
the  valley  lay  Old  Chester  ;  here  and  there  a  gable 
showed  through  the  thick  foliage,  or  a  chimney-stack 
rose  well  above  it ;  beyond,  on  the  opposite  hillside, 
was  the  house  from  which  they  had  just  come,  — 
"  Cecil's  house."  Philip,  staring  out  from  under  his 
hat  brim  at  that  house,  and  telling  the  story  of  a 
green-haired  banshee,  was  reflecting  upon  that  extra 
ordinary  folly  of  sentiment  which,  when  love,  which 
constitutes  the  home,  has  died,  holds  a  husband  and 
wife  together,  lest  the  "  home  be  broken  up."  "  As 
though  the  family  idea  meant  the  mere  living  to 
gether  of  the  father  and  mother !  "  he  said  to  him 
self. 

Molly,  cuddled  against  his  side,  with  one  arm 
thrown  across  his  breast,  watched  him  as  he  began 


106  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE: 

his  tale,  her  round,  serious  eyes  full  of  profound  in 
terest  ;  the  more  so  as  her  father's  stories  were  not 
apt  to  end  with  a  moral,  or  to  contain  those  indirect 
insinuations  of  virtue  which  children  find  in  as  bad 
taste  as  do  their  elders. 

"  Well,  this  green-haired  banshee,"  Philip  de 
clared,  after  having  described  a  banshee  suitable  for 
the  infant  mind,  "  went  down  to  the  seashore,  and 
she  saw  a  sea  serpent.  He  had  a  mane  all  about  his 
head,  and  it  was  covered  with  barnacles  and  little 
pink  shells,  and  they  rattled  and  clashed  ;  and  his 
sides  were  all  wet  and  shining,  and  they  were  blue 
and  green  and  gold  ;  and  he  had  diamond  eyes  — 

"  Oh,  draw  him,  father,  draw  him  !  " 

So  Philip  hunted  in  his  pocket  for  a  pencil  and 
an  old  envelope,  and  proceeded  to  sketch  a  strange 
beast  unknown  to  natural  history ;  on  its  back, 
clinging  with  bony  fingers  to  its  mane,  he  put  a 
banshee,  with  wild  hair  and  eyes,  and  a  dreadful 
mouth  full  of  sharp  and  jagged  teeth. 

"  The  banshee  waded  out  and  got  on  the  back  of 
the  sea  serpent,  and  he  began  to  career  around. 
At  first  she  thought  it  was  pretty  nice  ;  but  some 
times  the  sea  serpent  would  go  under  the  water  for 
an  hour  or  so,  and  that  made  her  wet,  you  know  — 

"  Why,  she  'd  get  drowned,  father !  "  Molly  broke 
in,  with  some  sternness. 

"  Oh,  she  was  a  land-and-water  lady,"  Philip 
explained. 

But  Molly  frowned.  "  She  was  n't  a  lady ;  she 
was  a  creature." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  107 

Her  father  looked  at  lier  admiringly.  u  Your  dis 
tinction  is  fine,  Molly.  I  've  known  4  creatures.' 
Well,  anyhow,  once  when  the  sea  serpent  came  up  to 
the  surface  of  the  water,  the  banshee  looked  up  into 
the  air,  and  away  up  in  the  air,  about  nine  hundred 
miles,  she  saw  two  rocs  fighting." 

"  Rocks?  "  said  Molly,  following  him  breathlessly. 

"  I  mean  birds ;  don't  you  remember  the  rocs  in 
Sindbad  ?  They  were  fighting  up  there  eight  hun 
dred  miles,  and —  " 

"  You  said  nine  hundred,"  Molly  interrupted 
threateningly. 

"  Why,  yes,  it  was  nine  hundred ;  what  am  I 
thinking  of  ?  Their  great  wings  were  like  four  gray 
clouds,  and  they  covered  the  sun.  And  just  then  a 
feather  from  one  of  their  wings  floated  down  into 
the  sea,  and  lay  rocking  up  and  down  on  the  waves 
like  a  boat.  So  the  banshee  climbed  on  to  it." 

"  You  did  n't  draw  her  with  any  legs,  father," 
Molly  objected. 

"  Oh,  we  must  give  her  some  legs,"  Philip  said 
gravely,  and,  putting  his  cigar  down  on  a  flat  stone, 
he  indicated,  among  the  voluminous  folds  of  flying 
drapery,  the  very  thin  legs  proper  to  a  banshee. 

"  Well,  she  climbed  up  on  this  great  gray  feather, 
and  pulled  up  the  big  end  for  a  sort  of  sail,  you 
know,  and  then  she  went  sailing  and  sailing  and  sail 
ing  ;  and  after  a  while  she  came  to  a  desert  island." 

Molly  sighed  deeply,  and  nestled  close  to  her  fa 
ther,  her  chin  on  his  breast,  and  her  eyes  watching 
his  lips. 


108  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  She  came  bump  up  against  this  island,  and  the 
great  gray  feather  grated  against  the  pebbles  on  the 
beach ;  and  she  got  off  and  ran  up  on  the  shore.  It 
was  a  very  rocky  island ;  there  was  n't  a  single  green 
thing  anywhere  on  it,  —  not  a  tree,  nor  a  bush,  nor 
a  blade  of  grass." 

"  Nor  any  goats  ?  "  Molly  asked  anxiously.  "  Rob 
inson  had  goats." 

"  No,  no  goats.  But  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
island  was  a  great  white  roc's  egg  that  looked  like 
the  Mormons'  Temple.  No,  you  never  saw  the  Mor 
mons'  Temple,  but  never  mind.  That  's  what  it 
looked  like.  And  what  do  you  suppose  the  banshee 
did  ?  She  knocked  a  hole  at  either  end  of  the  roc's 
egg,  —  just  as  if  she  were  going  to  suck  it,  you 
know ;  and  then  the  wind  blew  right  straight 
through  it,  and  there  it  was,  empty !  a  beautiful, 
white,  shining  house  for  the  banshee,  who  immedi 
ately  turned  into  a  beautiful  princess ;  for  it  seems 
a  wicked  magician  had  enchanted  her  and  turned 
her  into  a  —  a  creature.  Oh,  and  the  inside  of 
the  egg,  the  part  we  eat,  I  mean  — 

"  Do  we  eat  roc's  eggs  ?  " 

"  I  never  have,  Molly,"  Philip  admitted,  "  but  I 
should  like  to.  Well,  anyhow,  it  all  ran  out  on  a 
rock  where  the  sun  had  been  beating  for  a  thou 
sand  years,  so  it  was  very  hot,  and  of  course  it  cooked 
the  egg  into  omelets  ;  so  you  see  the  beautiful  prin 
cess  had  plenty  to  eat.  Now  finish  it;  it's  your 
turn." 

Molly  gasped.      "  Oh,  father,  not  yet  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  109 

"  Yes,  it 's  your  turn.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  with  the  princess  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  follow  her  adventures.  His 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  old  question :  "  What  is 
my  duty?"  He  said  to  himself  again,  as  he  had 
said  so  many  times  in  these  last  few  years,  "  Molly !  " 
He  knew,  of  course,  that  if  he  ended  what  he  believed 
to  be  an  ignoble  and  a  lying  relation,  if  he  and  his 
wife  separated,  the  court  would  take  no  cognizance 
of  his  subtleties,  and  Molly  would  unquestionably  be 
given  to  her  mother ;  that  is,  if  the  matter  were 
pushed  to  any  legal  decision.  And  if  it  were  not 
made  a  legal  question,  he  knew  equally  well  that 
Cecil  would  never  consent  to  give  the  child  to  him  ; 
the  only  possible  arrangement  would  be  a  division  of 
Molly's  time,  —  that  arrangement  fatal  to  the  father 
and  mother  idea  in  a  child's  mind.  All  the  embar 
rassment  and  pain  of  such  a  plan  to  the  growing 
girl  came  before  his  mind  :  she  would  have  no  fixed 
home ;  she  would  have  to  make  explanations ;  she 
would  be  surrounded  by  the  horrible  atmosphere  of 
antagonism  in  which  each  parent  must  live  in  regard 
to  the  other,  who,  in  so  many  months  or  so  many 
weeks,  would  steal  the  child  away  again.  On  the 
other  hand,  suppose  that  he  were  to  give  up  his 
desire  for  integrity,  his  passionate  belief  in  the  honor 
of  marriage,  and  continue  this  miserable  life,  so  that 
Molly's  little  existence  be  kept  unruffled:  what 
would  be  the  result  to  her?  What  would  be  the 
effect  upon  her  of  the  incessant  contradiction  and 
bickering  between  her  father  and  mother,  the  teach- 


110  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

ing  of  each  denying  the  teaching  of  the  other ;  and, 
more  subtle  and  deadly  possibility,  what  would  be 
the  effect  upon  her  of  the  lie  which  the  father  and 
mother  lived  ?  Was  not  the  truth  safer  ?  Was  it 
not  to  be  trusted  ?  There  was  surely  less  danger  to 
her  from  the  sad,  outspoken  acknowledgment  that 
because  love  was  the  supreme  thing,  because  they 
honored  marriage,  her  father  and  mother  had  parted  ! 
Again  and  again  he  had  argued  this  with  himself ; 
again  and  again  he  had  answered,  "  Yes,  the  truth  is 
best ! "  And  yet,  how  could  he  give  her  up,  how 
could  he  trust  her  to  Cecil  even  for  half  the  time  ? 
-  Molly  !  It  was  as  though  upon  the  fine  and  deli 
cate  and  admirable  machinery  of  his  theories  this 
little  unconscious  hand  was  laid,  and  everything 
jarred  and  snapped  and  broke.  Ah,  we  take  a  great 
deal  upon  us,  we  men  and  women,  when,  all  uncertain 
of  ourselves  and  of  each  other,  we  dare  to  bring  a 
child's  soul  into  the  strife  and  confusion  and  cruelty 
which  any  lack  of  love  between  us  will  create  out  of 
marriage  ! 

Philip  was  not  listening  to  Molly's  story,  —  it  was 
something  about  Indians  and  sponges,  —  when  sud 
denly  she  broke  it  off  with  a  question  :  — 

"  Father,  why  does  n't  God  kill  the  devil  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Philip,  knocking  off  the  ashes  of 
his  cigar  with  a  careful  finger,  "  candidly,  I  don't 
know." 

"Why,  father!"  cried  Molly.  "You  ought  to 
know,"  she  said  severely. 

"  I  don't,"  Philip  confessed  meekly. 


PHILIP*  AND  HIS    WIFE.  Ill 

Molly  sighed.  "  I  don't  know  why  He  does  n't, 
either.  He  's  the  biggest." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  God  and  the  devil  ?  " 
her  father  inquired. 

"Oh,  everything." 

"  Well !  do  impart  your  information,  Polly." 

"What?" 

"  Tell  father  ;  he  does  n't  know  4  everything.'  ' 

"  Well,  God  lives  in  a  garden.  I  think  the  stars 
are  the  bushes  growing  in  it.  And  He  hides  some 
where  in  the  bushes,  'cause  we  never  see  Him,  you 
know." 

"  Yes,"  Philip  said,  "  it  does  seem  sometimes  as  if 
He  hid  Himself,  Molly." 

"  There  is  a  river  in  the  garden,  and  a  gold  house 
for  Him  to  live  in.  And  He  keeps  crowns  in  a  box 
under  the  bed,  and  gives  'em  to  the  angels,  an'  the 
angels  keep  throwing  them  down  in  front  of  Him. 
I  don't  see  why.  ' 

"  It  does  seem  singular,"  her  father  agreed. 

"  Well,  and  the  —  Other.  He  has  ears  like  a 
cow,  and  hoofs.  He  makes  people  bad.  He  makes 
'em  say  —  4  damn  ' !  " 

«  Oh,  dear  !  " 

"  Yes,  he  does  ;  he 's  awfully  wicked.  And 
God  doesn't  like  him.  So  why  doesn't  He  kill 
him  ?  I  would."  She  dropped  her  head  on  her 
father's  breast,  so  that  her  soft,  straight  hair 
touched  his  lips.  "  I  really  don't  understand  it, 
father  ?  " 

"  I  've    known    others    who    are   confused   by   it, 


112  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Polly.     But  if  I  were  you,  I  would  n't  bother  about 
it.     If  God  knows,  why,  that 's  enough." 

"Well,"  returned  Molly  reluctantly.  Then  she 
looked  up  and  said,  "  Mamma  laughs  and  laughs, 
but  1  think  it  is  a  good  deal  better  to  say  a  prayer 
to  both  of  'em.  If  God  is  n't  quite  big  enough  to 
kill  him,  why,  it 's  safer  to  say  a  prayer  to  him,  too. 
Then  he  won't  be  mad." 

Philip's  hand,  holding  his  cigar,  hid  his  face  for  a 
moment,  but  when  he  spoke  his  voice  was  very  seri 
ous.  It  was  better  to  think  of  what  was  good  than 
of  what  was  bad,  he  told  her.  "  And  so,"  he  ended, 
"  I  wouldn't  pray  to  the  devil,  darling." 

"  Well,"  said  Molly  doubtfully  ;  "  but  it  seems  to 
me  — just  as  well.  Mamma  said  my  devil  prayer 
was  naughty,  —  oh,  she  thought  it  was  real  wicked, 
father,"  she  said  proudly,  —  "  but  it  made  her  laugh 
and  laugh ;  she  made  me  say  it  to  Mr.  Carey. 
Want  me  to  say  it  to  you  ?  It  will  make  you  laugh 
like  everything.  4  Dear  Dev  - 
.  "No!" 

At  the  change  in  his  voice,  Molly's  little  face 
puckered  into  excuses  and  defense.  "  Why,  mamma 
laughed ;  she  - 

"No,"  Philip  said  again,  but  gently.  "You must 
not  make  an  exhibition  of  your  prayers,  Mary." 

"A what,  father?" 

"  An  exhibition.  Let 's  see  if  you  can  under 
stand.  Your  prayer  is  only  for  the  One  to  whom 
you  speak.  If  it  is  only  one  word,  '  God,"  it  is  a 
prayer  ;  and  if  you  say  it  to  make  father  laugh  — 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  113 

He  stopped  and  set  his  lips ;  how  was  he  to  spare 
the  mother  to  the  child  ?  "  Your  prayers  must  be 
reverent,  dear,"  he  ended  lamely ;  "  will  you  re 
member  ?  Whether  it  is  a  devil  prayer  or  a  God 
prayer,  you  must  not  think  of  any  one  else.  Do  you 
understand,  Molly  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Molly  answered.  "  Oh,  quick  !  Look  at 
the  ant  walking  around  your  hat !  " 

Philip  let  her  chatter  on,  with  a  word  now  and 
then  .to  keep  her  happy.  Once  the  look  in  his  face 
called  out  her  rebuke  :  "  Don't  wrinkle  your  fore 
head  so,  father.  It  is  n't  pretty.  Father,  you  look 
cross." 

He  laughed,  kissed  her  ;  but  he  was  angry.  "  I 
will  see  her  to-night,"  he  was  thinking.  "  I  must 
speak  to  her.  This  sort  of  thing  has  got  to  stop. 
Oh,  the  child  !  " 


IX. 

Good  nature  is  often  mistaken  for  Virtue.  —  INGERSOLL. 

BUT  Philip  had  no  opportunity  to  speak  to  Cecil 
that  evening. 

Alicia  came  to  dinner,  and,  watching  the  pretty 
drama  enacting  under  his  eyes,  his  harsh  and  silent 
thought  of  his  wife  seemed  to  him  a  sort  of  sacrilege. 
No  shy  inflection  of  the  girl's  voice,  no  humid  look 
from  the  undeclared  lover's  eyes,  no  meaningless 
badinage  tftat  hid  all  meanings,  escaped  his  reverent 
appreciation.  He  was  like  a  man  struggling  and 
drowning  in  the  mire,  yet  seeing,  far  off,  firm  sunlit 
uplands.  He  had  not  attained  them,  but  he  was 
still  able  to  believe  in  them.  There  are  the  lowest 
deeps,  where  a  man  ceases  to  believe  in  what  he  has 
missed  ;  but  Philip  Shore  believed  in  love  with  all 
his  soul. 

Cecil  watched  the  lovers,  too  ;  and  when  Lyssie 
went  home,  with  Philip  and  Mr.  Carey  as  escorts, 
she  thought  tenderly  of  her  little  sister,  but  with 
half-bitter  amusement  of  the  situation.  "  She  takes 
it  seriously !  "  she  thought.  She  was  distinctly 
interested,  however,  and  checked  Molly's  persistent 
chatter  that  she  might  follow  her  own  thoughts  un 
disturbed  ;  but  the  child's  teasing  questions  annoyed 
her,  and  she  sent  her  into  the  house  for  some  candy. 


PHILIP  AND   HIS  WIFE.  115 

"  You  can  have  all  you  want,  if  you  '11  only  keep 
quiet ;  but  if  you  bother  mamma,  you  must  go  to 
bed." 

Molly,  delighted  to  find  herself  possessed  of  a, 
whole  box  of  candy,  was  very  obedient,  until  Rosa, 
looking  pallid,  came  to  say  that  it  was  her  bedtime  ; 
then  she  cried,  and  Cecil  kissed  her,  and  promised 
her  a  present  if  she  would  be  good. 

"  Give  her  that  little  Japanese  box  on  my  dress 
ing  table,  Rosa,"  she  said;  and  added  a  kindly 
word  to  the  woman  about  her  own  health ;  "you  had 
better  take  a  glass  of  milk  before  you  go  to  bed," 
she  suggested  ;  and  Rosa  went  away,  beaming.  Cecil 
Shore  was  adored  by  her  servants  ;  perhaps,  some 
time,  we  shall  know  why  it  is  that  the  IL  scrupulous, 
generous,  selfish  person  arouses  in  his  inferiors  a 
devotion  which  virtue  itself,  with  all  its  justice  and 
sense  of  responsibility,  rarely  commandso 

Cecil's  bribe  to  Molly  left  her  to  the  peace  and 
quiet  she  desired,  and  her  thoughts  went  back  to 
the  lovers. 

She  had  a  small  silver  flask  in  her  hand,  full  of 
some  thick  golden  perfume,  and  she  opened  it 
slowly :  "  To  think  it  should  be  Lys !  What  a  pity 
Philip  is  married ;  he  would  be  so  much  more  appro 
priate  for  her."  The  natural  sequence  of  this  state 
ment  occurred  to  her  and  she  meditated  upon  it 
with  some  interest. 

Cecil  Shore  was  a  singularly  clear-sighted  woman, 
and  she  was  in  the  habit  of  observing  herself  as 
truthfully  and  intelligently  as  she  did  other  people. 


116  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

But  truthfulness  of  this  sort  is  in  no  sense  spiritual ; 
it  is  only  a  calm,  material  dealing  with  facts. 
Hence  she  felt  no  shock  or  shrinking  at  the  tendency 
of  her  thoughts,  or  her  serious  admission  that  it  was 
a  pity  things  could  not  be  more  appropriately  ar 
ranged;  she  only  sighed  a  little,  and  began  to  plan 
how  she  might  make  this  sweet,  unreal,  fleeting  time 
sweeter  for  Lyssie.  "  I  must  have  her  here  of tener," 
she  thought,  but  remembered  Mrs.  Drayton,  and 
half  laughed  and  groaned.  "  I  '11  have  to  step  into 
the  breach  and  be  agreeable  to  her,  so  that  she  '11  let 
Lys  off.  I  '11  have  to  go  and  sit  with  her  sometimes, 
and  talk  about  her  soul,  —  Heaven  help  me  ! " 
Then  she  started,  and  said  sharply,  "  Who  's  that  ?  " 
for  a  figure  moved  down  among  the  shadows  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps,  and  then  stood  still. 

"  Me,  ma'am,"  a  frightened  voice  answered. 

Cecil,  still  feeling  her  heart  beating,  sat  up,  and 
said,  "  Well !  who  are  you  ?  Eliza  Todd  ?  What 
do  you  want,  Eliza  ?  You  should  n't  come  creeping 
about  this  way  ;  you  frightened  me  to  death  !  " 

The  little  gray  figure  came  out  into  the  faint  light 
from  the  house.  "I  —  I  thought  Miss  Lyssie  was 
here,  ma'am.  I  'm  sure  I  did  n't  mean  to  frighten 
you,  Mrs.  Shore.  I  thought  Miss  Lyssie  was  here." 

"  She  has  gone  home." 

"  Oh,  has  she,  ma'am  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Well,  it  don't  matter.  T ain't  no  great  odds. 
I  'm  sorry  I  disturbed  you,  I  'm  sure." 

Eliza  was  creeping   back  into  the  shadows,  but 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  117 

Cecil  stopped  her  :  "  Why  did  you  want  to  see  Miss 
Lyssie,  Eliza  ?  Anything  wrong  ?  " 

"  No,  'm  ;  oh  no,  'm.  I  just  thought  I  'd  —  I  'd 
get  her,"  said  Eliza,  her  voice  breaking ;  and  then 
she  lifted  the  skirt  of  her  calico  dress  and  wiped  her 
eyes,  "  I  'm  all  shook  up,  Mrs.  Shore.  I  'm  sure 
I  beg  your  pardon  for  giving  way  before  a  lady  like 
you.  But  I  thought  Miss  Lyssie  was  here." 

"  Oh,  don't  cry,  whatever  you  do !  "  Mrs.  Shore 
said  cheerfully.  "Tell  me  what  troubles  you.  I 
think  I  '11  do  as  well  as  Miss  Lyssie.  Is  it  the 
rent  ?  " 

Mrs.  Tocld  laid  her  worn,  thin  hand  across  her 
mouth,  as  though  to  steady  the  nervous  tremor  of 
her  lips.  u  I  've  been  doin'  your  windows  to-day, 
Mrs.  Shore,  and  the  girls  said  Miss  Lyssie  was  here 
to  dinner,  and  was  out  setting  on  the  porch  with 
you;  and  so  I  come  round  from  the  back  of  the 
house  to  see  if  I  could  get  her.  That 's  all." 

"  But  what  do  you  want  Miss  Lyssie  for,  at  this 
hour  of  the  night  ?  Oh,  come,  Eliza,  you  must  n't 
cry  !  I  never  can  do  anything  for  people  that  cry." 
Then,  after  a  moment's  pause,  seeing  the  little, 
crouching,  crying  figure  at  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
Cecil  added  kindly,  "  Come  up  here,  and  let 's  have 
a  little  talk ;  tell  me  what  's  the  matter." 

Eliza  came,  slowly,  catching  her  breath  as  she 
tried  to  stop  crying.  She  sat  down  on  the  steps,  and 
Cecil,  stretched  out  in  her  long  chair,  could  see  all 
the  details  of  work  and  poverty  in  her  face. 

"  'T  ain't   anything,   ma'am,  only  I  was  afraid  to 


118  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

go  home.     I  thought  maybe  Miss  Lyssie  would  go 
with  me.     She  can  do  anything  with  him." 

"  Miss  Lyssie  !  "  cried  Lyssie's  sister,  resentment 
and  amusement  in  her  face.  "  Why,  my  sister 
could  n't  go  home  with  you  at  this  time  of  night, 
Eliza.  I  suppose  you  mean  that  you  and  Todd  have 
quarreled ;  but  Miss  Lyssie  can't  do  anything." 

"  Oh  no,  ma'am,  we  'ain't  quarreled,"  Eliza  ex 
plained  eagerly.  "  Only  your  Rosa  said  that  Mr. 
Shore's  John  told  her  he  seen  Todd  going  home, 
full.  Well,  I  expect  my  baby  in  six  weeks,  ma'am, 
and  I  ain't  real  smart ;  an'  when  he  's  full,  he  's  just 
as  like  as  not  to  jaw  at  me.  And  I  thought  I  'd 
just  get  Miss  Lyssie  to  speak  to  him.  She  'd  get 
him  pleasant,  if  he  was  n't  real  drunk.  If  he  's 
real  drunk,  he  sleeps,  and  then  I  don't  mind.  But 
Rosa  said  John  said  that  he  were  n't  more  'an  half 
full.  So  I  thought  I  'd  get  Miss  Lyssie." 

"  Is  Miss  Lyssie  in  the  habit  of  going  around  at 
night  to  pacify  Todd?  "  said  Cecil  curiously. 
"  Ma'am  ?  " 

"  Does  she  often  come  and  talk  to  your  husband  ? 
She  ought  not  to  go  at  night,  Eliza." 

"  Well,  yes  'm,   she   comes   sometimes.      There  's 
nobody  can  do  anything  with   him  but  Miss  Lyssie, 
—  the  nasty  brute  !  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Cecil,  surprised,  "  is  that  the  way  you 
feel  about  him  ?  Well,  I  'm  sure  I  should  think  you 
would.  It  would  be  very  disagreeable  to  live  with 
a  man  who  '  jawed '  at  one." 

44  Well,  that 's  just  what  he  does,"  Eliza  said  re- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  119 

sentfully.     "  My  !  nobody  knows  what  1  've  put  up 

with  in  that  man.     An'  he  's  just  a  worthless  brute  ; 

I  've  told  him  so  a   hundred  times.     I  've   told  him 

the    Lord    only  knew  why   I   demeaned  myself    to 

marry  him." 

"  That  must  have  been  encouraging  to  him,"  Cecil 

observed. 

But  Mrs.  Todd  went  on  passionately  :  "  Me,  that 

was  well  brought  up  !     I  had  my  music  lessons,  Mrs. 

Shore,  when  I  was  a  girl,  and  I  had  an  instrument ; 

I    could    play  4  See  the    dewdrop.'     I  suppose  you 

know  that  piece,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  I  don't  recall  it,"  Mrs.  Shore  confessed. 
"  And  then  to  think  I  married  that  —  that  —  that 
carpenter  !  "  ended  Eliza,  at  a  loss  for  an  adjective. 
"  Well,  you  were  very  foolish  to  marry  a  man  who 
drank,"  Cecil  said,  yawning. 

"  Oh,  but  he  signed  the  pledge,"  Eliza  excused 
herself,  —  "he  signed  it  as  many  as  six  times  before 
we  was  finally  married.  And  now  look  at  him  !  And 
look  at  me,  slavin'  !  I  never  thought  I  'd  come 
down  to  washing  people's  windows,  Mrs.  Shore. 
My  father  was  a  respectable  man.  He  was  never 
took  up  for  anything,  and  he  never  kept  company 
with  them  that  was  took  up.  So  I  had  advan 
tages  ;  course,  now,  I  feel  it.  We  'ain't  got  any 
instrument.  My  goodness !  we  'ain't  got  anything. 
Oh,  it 's  no  good  talking  ;  it  makes  me  real  put 
out.  But  to-night  I  thought  I  just  could  n't  stand 
him  if  he  got  to  jawing  ;  so  I  came  round  to  get 
Miss  Lyssie  to  speak  to  him." 


120  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Well,  Eliza,"  Mrs.  Shore  assured  her,  "  I  think, 
considering  your  powers  of  invective,  there  may  be 
something  to  be  said  for  Job.  However,  never 
mind  that.  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  one  thing :  why 
in  the  world  do  you  go  on  living  with  him?  I  should 
think  the  simplest  way  out  of  it  all  would  be  to  leave 
him  ?  " 

"  My !  I  Ve  threatened  to  do  that  a  hundred 
times.  But  then,  when  he  ain't  drinking  he  gets 
good  wages.  I  suppose  I'm  more  comfortable, 
ma'am,  takin'  it  all  together,  than  if  I  had  n't  his 
wages  coming  in  sometimes?  And  then,  Mrs.  Shore, 
/  've  got  a  tongue." 

"  I  've  noticed  that,"  Cecil  murmured. 

"  An'  I  can  give  it  back  to  him  !  It 's  only  when 
he  licks  me  —  well,  he 's  only  done  that  three  times.  I 
could  have  had  him  took  up,  but  then  there  would  n't 
'a'  been  any  wages,  you  see  ;  so  I  just  content  my 
self  by  telling  him  that  he  's  a  brute.  An'  he  is ! 

my  baby  coming,  and  me  afraid  to  go  home  for  fear 
he  '11  get  me  in  a  tremble  !  I  thought  Miss  Lyssie 
would  make  him  pleasant,"  she  ended,  and  whim 
pered,  and  wiped  her  eyes  on  her  skirt  again,  and 
rose.  "  Oh,  I  'm  that  scared  of  him  !  "  She  stood 
there,  her  poor  gaunt  little  face  full  of  the  fright 
ened  resentment  of  selfishness,  but  with  no  gleam  of 
pity  for  the  sinfulness  of  the  poor  sinner  who  was 
her  husband. 

"  You  are  a  very  foolish  woman  to  live  with  him," 
Cecil  said  impatiently.  "  As  for  to-night,  I  can  send 
John  home  with  you  -  But  no,  that  would  n't  do 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  121 

any  good.  Oh,  well,  you  poor  silly  little  creature, 
come,  I  '11  go  home  with  you  myself."  She  got  up 
lazily.  "  Run  into  the  hall  and  bring  me  that  white 
wrap  that  is  on  the  sofa.  Yes,  yes  ;  I  '11  walk  home 
with  you,"  she  insisted  good  naturedly  in  answer  to 
Eliza's  tremulous  protest. 

They  were  outside  the  gates  before  Cecil  remem 
bered  that  she  should  have  had  John  follow  her,  that 
she  might  not  have  to  come  back  alone.  Still,  in 
Old  Chester  one  does  not  mind  being  out  after  dark 
by  one's  self.  So  she  said  one  or  two  kind  things 
to  Eliza,  promised  her  some  baby  clothes,  told  her 
she  might  come  up  to  the  barn  every  night  and  get 
milk  for  the  children,  and  then,  silently,  walked 
along  in  the  starlight  down  to  the  village,  to  the 
miserable  little  house  where  the  Todds  lived.  There, 
Eliza  slipped  behind  her  while  she  knocked  gayly,  and 
then  instantly  pushed  the  door  open  and  entered. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause  on  the  threshold  of 
the  squalid  room.  Job,  who  was  sitting  with  his 
head  on  his  arms,  at  a  table  on  which  were  some  un 
washed  plates  with  scraps  of  meat  upon  them,  and 
a  pitcher  of  tea,  and  a  sugar  bowl  black  with  flies, 
lifted  his  head,  and  looked  at  her  with  dull  eyes ;  a 
child,  wailing  fretfully  on  a  bed  still  unmade,  stopped, 
open-mouthed.  Cecil,  with  a  quick  glance,  took  in 
the  scene.  Job  Todd's  jaw  dropped  in  blank  and 
sheepish  astonishment  as  she  came  toward  him. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Todd,"  she  said  graciously,  "  I  'm  so 
glad  you  're  at  home.  You  're  just  the  man  I  want 
to  see.  Can  you  do  a  piece  of  work  for  me  to-mor- 


122  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

row,  in  my  stable?  Ah,  Eliza,  that  little  woman 
on  the  bed  wants  her  supper !  Mr.  Todd,  I  'm 
afraid  I  kept  your  wife  very  late,  but  she  is  such  a 
capital  cleaner  I  really  could  n't  let  her  go  sooner." 

Job  had  gotten  on  his  feet,  and  was  grinning  in 
a  silly  way,  but  at  Eliza's  name  his  heavy  red  face  ^ 
darkened.     "  I  had  to  get  my  own  supper,"  he  be 
gan  threateningly. 

Cecil,  with  a  charming  smile,  broke  in :  "I  have 
heard  people  say  that  men  are  better  cooks  than 
women  !  But  you  've  had  your  supper,  Mr.  Todd  ? 
I  'm  not  interrupting  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  'm  ;  not  at  all,  I  'm  sure,"  Job  said,  jerk 
ing  his  head  up  and  down  in  a  bow. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  ask  you  about  this  piece  of 
work,"  Cecil  went  on,  aware  that  Eliza  was  slipping 
the  children  away  to  an  inner  room,  and  clearing  the 
table,  and  turning  down  the  lamp  which  was  smok 
ing  on  the  mantelpiece  above  the  untidy  stove.  "  I 
know  what  a  good  carpenter  you  are ;  I  remember 
hearing  some  one  say  what  good  work  you  did." 

Job  shook  his  head,  with  a  pleased  look,  and 
thrust  out  his  weak  lips.  "Well,  I  don't  know. 
Used  to  be."  Then  the  drunken  anger  came  back 
into  his  face.  "  She  wastes  all  my  money,  an'  I 
have  to  get  my  own  supper ;  no  good  in  being  first- 
rate  in  .your  trade,  if  -  He  glared  at  Eliza,  and 
Cecil  was  in  despair.  Well,  there  was  nothing  for 
it  but  to  take  him  away.  She  shivered  a  little,  but 
she  said,  courteously,  that  she  wondered  if  he  would 
be  so  good  as  to  walk  up  the  hill  with  her  ? 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  123 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  my  man  to  come  for  me ;  but  if 
you  will  walk  home  with  me,  Mr.  Todd,  that  will  be 
better,  because  I  can  tell  you  about  the  work." 

That  Job  was  flattered  was  so  evident  that  Cecil 
could  hardly  keep  the  gravity  of  countenance  which 
was  essential ;  he  came  stumbling  out  into  the  street 
with  her,  murmuring,  "  Yes,  'm,  yes,  'm,"  to  every 
thing  she  said.  And  she  said  much,  and  always 
with  "  Mr.  Todd  ? "  at  the  end  of  her  sentences, 
spoken  in  that  enchanting  voice  which  made  the 
poor  fellow  straighten  himself,  and  feel  more  like  a 
man  than  he  had  in  many  a  year,  —  far  more  than 
Dr.  Lavendar's  invectives,  and  Miss  Susan's  sensible 
reproaches,  and  Miss  Lyssie's  entreaties  had  ever 
made  him  feel.  Cecil  did  not  refer  to  the  work 
again,  and  she  devoutly  hoped  that  he  would  not. 
"What  shall  I  say,  if  he  asks  what  it  is?"  she 
thought  nervously.  She  spoke  of  the  weather,  and 
was  "  so  glad  "  Mr.  Todd  thought  it  was  going  to  be 
fine ;  she  asked  him  about  his  politics  with  all  the 
gravity  in  the  world,  and  took  him  to  task  for  not 
voting.  "  American  men  ought  to  vote,  and  not 
leave  the  ballot  to  aliens,  don't  you  think  so,  Mr. 
Todd  ?  "  And  Job,  who  had  not  paid  his  poll  tax 

ice    he   was    twenty-one,   said,   "  Yes,  'm,  yes,  'm. 

ir  right,  'm.  We  had  ought  to  vote ;  yer 
-'lit,  'm."  It  seemed  to  Job  that  she  had  forgot 
ten  that  he  was  a  drunkard,  as  Dr.  Lavendar  and 
the  others  had  assured  him  he  was,  over  and  over. 
A  glow  came  about  his  heart.  He  was  so  elated 
I  hat  he  did  not  notice  the  relief  in  her  tone,  when, 


124  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

halfway  up  the  hill,  she  interrupted  herself  suddenly 
by  saying,  "  Oh,  there  's  Mr.  Carey,  —  there  's  Mr. 
Shore  and  Mr.  Carey,  Mr.  Todd.  I  shall  not  have 
to  trouble  you  to  go  on  up  the  hill  with  me. 
Philip !  "  she  called  out  sharply,  and  the  two  men 
turned,  astonished  to  see  her  and  her  companion. 
When  they  were  beside  her,  she  laughed  a  little  at 
her  own  relief,  but  she  said,  still  with  that  gracious 
politeness  that  stirred  Job  as  nothing  but  flattery 
can  stir  a  fool,  "  I  had  to  go  down  to  the  village, 
and  Mr.  Todd  was  so  kind  as  to  walk  up  the  hill  with 
me.  Good-night,  Mr.  Todd.  Thank  you  so  much." 

And  Job  Todd  made  a  jerky  bow,  promised  to 
attend  to  the  stable  job,  and  went  off  with  a  brisk 
step  that  surprised  himself. 

As  for  Cecil,  she  drew  her  wrap  about  her,  with 
a  shiver  and  a  laugh.  It  seemed  as  though  she  still 
felt  his  heavy  presence,  and  the  smell  of  liquor  near 
her.  "  OA,  what  a  beast  he  is  !  "  she  said.  "  How 
glad  I  am  I  met  you !  Mr.  Carey,  that  is  one  of 
my  sister's  proteges.  Philip,  find  something  for  him 
to  do  to-morrow,  will  you?  I've  told  him  I  had 
some  work  for  him.  Can't  you  break  down  a  stall, 
or  something  ?  I  told  him  the  work  was  in  the  sta 
ble."  And  then  she  shook  her  head  and  laughed. 
"  No,  no  !  please  don't  talk  about  him,  —  horrible 
creature !  " 

She  was  plainly  nervous,  and  yet  full  of  the  droll 
ery  of  the  situation. 

It  was  useless,  Philip  saw,  to  think  of  having  any 
talk  with  her  about  Molly  that  night. 


X. 


I  am  often  filled  with  wonder  that  so  many  marriages  are  passably 
successful,  and  so  few  come  to  open  failure.  —  STEVENSON. 

THE  next  morning,  in  accordance  with  her  plan 
of  being  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Drayton  so  that  Lyssie 
might  have  a  little  more  freedom,  Cecil  went  to  see 
her  step-mother;  and  she  was  agreeable,  though  the 
repression  she  had  to  put  upon  herself  in  her  conver 
sation  with  this  foolish  little  woman  made  her  tired 
and  cross,  —  so  cross  that  when,  at  noon,  Rosa  came 
to  ask  what  work  Mrs.  Shore  wished  Job  Todd  to 
do  in  the  stable,  Cecil  replied  impatiently,  "  I  don't 
know,  I  'm  sure  !  Don't  bother  me  about  it,  Rosa. 
Just  tell  John  to  find  something  for  him  to  do. 
Anything;  I  don't  care  what.  Let  him  build  a 
kennel  for  Eric." 

"  Eric  has  a  very  good  kennel,  Mrs.  Shore,"  Rosa 
said  hesitatingly. 

"  Well,  let  him  tear  it  down  and  make  a  bigger 
one,"  Cecil  commanded,  relieved  to  have  the  matter 
decided;  and  then  she  called  the  woman  back. 
"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  must  go  myself,"  she  said,  crossly, 
with  that  impatience  which  we  all  feel  when  we 
would  do  evil,  but  find  good  present  with  us.  So 
she  went  out  across  the  hot  sunshine  of  the  court 
yard,  said  a  dozen  pretty  words  to  Job,  and  came 


126  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

back  again,  touched  and  amused  by  the  poor  stupid 
fellow's  slavish  admiration. 

She  had  a  delicious  nap  that  afternoon,  Rosa  fan 
ning  her  softly  until  she  fell  asleep,  and  when  she 
awakened,  warm  and  flushed,  bringing  her  a  sanga- 
ree  so  cold  that  the  goblet  was  frosted  with  beads  of 
mist.  Cecil  was  very  comfortable  by  that  time,  and 
very  good  natured :  she  had  planned  an  unusual 
salad  for  dinner  (tomatoes  set  in  aspic,  with  a  deli 
cious  accompaniment  of  stuffed  eggs)  ;  also,  she  had 
arranged  with  Mrs.  Drayton  that  Lyssie  should  have 
a  whole  day  off ;  and  two  such  successes  could  not 
fail  to  make  her  good  natured.  She  intended  that 
Lyssie's  day  should  be  charmingly  spent  with  Philip 
and  Mr.  Carey  on  the  river.  For  her  part,  she 
would  go  and  sit  with  her  step-mother,  and  then 
have  her  nap  as  usual  in  the  afternoon.  Cecil  very 
frankly  hated  excursions,  —  they  involved  too  much 
exertion,  and  the  sun  was  generally  hot ;  but,  pro 
vided  she  could  stay  at  home,  she  was  willing  to 
arrange  them  for  other  people.  In  fact,  she  liked 
the  pleasure,  which  in  some  natures  is  almost  sensu 
ous,  of  giving  pleasure  to  others. 

When  she  announced  her  plan  to  Mr.  Carey  that 
evening,  his  quick  look  of  delight  annoyed  her.  She 
did  not  know  why.  "  One  would  think  he  would  be 
a  little  bored  by  a  whole  day  of  it,"  she  thought ; 
and  when  Philip,  who  had  been  walking  restlessly 
up  and  down  the  porch,  turned  to  go  into  his  library, 
she  stopped  him  rather  curtly,  and  told  him  what  she 
had  arranged. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  127 

"  That  will  be  very  nice,"  he  said  absently.  "  To 
morrow,  you  say  ?  I  'm  glad  of  that ;  I  must  be 
away  the  next  day,  unfortunately."  Then  he  ex 
plained  to  Mr.  Carey  that  he  had  been  called  up  to 
town.  "  I  've  just  had  a  letter  from  Woodhouse, 
saying  that  he  can  go  over  Miller's  work  with  me  on 
Thursday." 

"  Miller  is  Philip's  little  artist,"  Cecil  said.  "  You 
know  Philip  keeps  an  artist  as  some  people  support 
missionaries.  He  thinks  he  can  create  genius  by 
encouraging  ability.  Now,  Philip,  I  hope  you  are 
not  going  to  be  hard  on  him?  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  Philip  returned  briefly.  "  I  'm  sorry, 
Carey,  to  clear  out  in  this  way,  but  I  have  to  take 
Woodhouse  when  I  can  get  him.  Miller  is  his  mis 
sionary  as  well  as  mine.  Poor  Miller  sent  the  pic 
tures  over  six  weeks  ago,  and  I  suppose  he  is  beside 
himself  with  anxiety  to  know  what  his  chances  are. 
We  withdraw  the  money,  you  know,  if  the  excellence 
of  the  work  does  n't  warrant  it." 

"  What  are  his  chances  ?  Has  he  the  real  stuff  in 
him  ?  "  Roger  asked.  He  knew  all  about  this  plan 
of  Philip  Shore's  for  lending  a  young  artist  money 
for  three  years'  study  abroad.  One  man  had  already 
profited  by  this  arrangement,  and  now  Philip  was 
watching  with  some  anxiety  the'progress  of  the  seconds 

"Well,"  he  said  doubtfully,  "I  don't  know. 
This  examination  will  settle  it.  He  does  not  seem 
to  me  to  stick  as  he  should." 

"  Sure  you  're  not  holding  too  tight  a  rein  ? " 
Roger  suggested.  "  He 's  young,  you  know." 


128  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  Indeed  he  is  holding  too  tight  a  rein !  "  Cecil 
broke  in.  "  Philip's  idea  of  the  artistic  passion  is 
to  die  in  an  attic.  Now,  I  think  one  can  be  an 
artist,  and  yet  not  die  in  an  attic.  Here  's  Philip 
himself,"  she  ended,  with  a  droll  glance. 

Her  reference  to  the  life  which  he  had  put  aside 
because  he  had  recognized  his  limitations  —  put 
aside  with  agony  and  truth  —  stung  like  a  lash 
across  his  face ;  but  he  said,  carelessly  enough, 
"  Oh,  very  likely  I  was  n't  capable  of  dying  at  such 
an  altitude,"  and  would  have  gone  away,  but  Cecil 
detained  him  by  a  gesture  and  a  laugh. 

"  You  didn't  sell  your  pictures  ;  that  was  the  real 
reason.  Come,  now,  Philip,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  was.  If  they  had  been  good,  they 
would  have  sold  ;  and  fortunately  for  me,  no  mis 
guided  friends  purchased  what  was  n't  good,  to  en 
courage  me  in  devoting  myself  to  mediocrity." 

"It's  a  pity  your  view  isn't  more  general," 
Roger  Carey  observed.  "  Misguided  friendship  and 
weak-kneed  benefaction  are  harder  on  art  than 
hunger  and  cold  ever  were.  I  'm  glad  you  won't 
support  your  man  unless  he  has  the  real  stuff  in 
him.  But,  poor  devil,  I  'm  sorry  for  him,  if  his 
work  does  n't  come  up  to  the  scratch." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Philip  Shore  ;  and  there  was 
something  in  his  voice  which  told  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  that  grief. 

"  Ah,  well,"  Cecil  said  lightly,  "  somebody  may 
die  and  leave  him  some  money,  or  he  may  marry  a 
rich  wife  ;  that  will  destroy  any  passion  for  dying  in 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE,  129 

attics.  But  really,  it  would  be  very  hard  on  him  to 
have  to  give  up,  now,  without  such  compensation. 
If  you  decide  against  him,  I  '11  send  him  the  money 
to  go  on  with  his  work  myself." 

Naturally  the  conversation  ended  with  this  re 
mark.  Roger  Carey  looked  at  his  hostess  with  a 
wonder  at  her  possibilities  which  was  almost  admira 
tion.  As  for  Philip,  he  excused  himself  to  his  guest 
because  he  had  some  letters  to  write,  and  went  into 
his  library,  setting  his  teeth  hard,  and  closing  the 
door  behind  him  with  a  vicious  bang.  As  he  did  so, 
he  heard  Cecil's  voice  saying,  "  Has  she  talked 
religion  to  you  yet  ?  She  has  it  in  its  most  malig 
nant  form  "  —  and  he  knew  that  poor  Mrs.  Drayton 
was  serving  as  a  stalking-horse  for  his  wife's  wit. 

He  did  not  hear  Roger  Carey's  blunt  rejoinder  : 
"  Oh,  now,  look  here,  Mrs.  Shore,  I  like  Mrs. 
Drayton  !  You  must  n't  abuse  her  to  me." 

Cecil  laughed.  "  My  dear  Mr.  Carey,  what  has 
liking  to  do  with  it  ?  You  don't  suppose  that  I  am 
not  deeply  attached  to  my  step-mother  ?  But  I  can't 
help  seeing  that  she  is  amusing." 

uYou  would  see  something  amusing  at  a  fu 
neral  !  " 

"  Ah,  well,  you  have  n't  experienced  her  religion," 
Cecil  defended  herself.  "  She  has  n't  told  you  how 
intimate  she  is  with  her  Creator,  and  you  've  never 
heard  her  purring  on  about  infinity  by  the  hour  ! 
I  assure  you,  Mr.  Carey,  she  empties  her  soul  of  its 
emotions  just  as  a  boy  pulls  his  pocket  wrong  side 
out  to  show  you  that  there  's  nothing  in  it.  And  to 


130  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

think  that  I  am  going  to  sit  with  her  to-morrow 
morning,  so  that  my  sister  can  have  a  little  spree, 
poor  child !  " 

Roger  felt  the  reproach  for  his  somewhat  aggres 
sive  goodness,  as  she  meant  he  should. 

"  You  're  very  good,  awfully  good,  to  sit  with  her 
instead  of  coming  out  on  the  river.  But  is  she  too 
sick  to  be  left  alone  ?  " 

Cecil  laughed.  "  Sick  ?  She  is  the  most  robustly 
delicate  person  I  know." 

44  Well,  then,  why  does  she  object  to  being 
alone  ?  " 

44  But  don't  you  know  ?  "  said  Cecil,  surprised ;  — 
44  there  is  never  any  4  why '  in  Mrs.  Drayton's  objec 
tions  !  " 

Again  Roger  Carey  frowned,  and  said  that  at  any 
rate  Mrs.  Drayton  spared  Miss  Lyssie  to  do  lots  of 
charitable  work ;  and  for  his  part,  he  thought  there 
was  nothing  more  attractive  in  a  woman  than  just 
that  sort  of  thing. 

44  Oh,  nothing  !  "  Cecil  agreed,  smiling. 

But  Mr.  Carey  had  nothing  more  to  say  of  little 
Lyssie.  Indeed,  he  did  not  like  to  talk  about  her 
to  this  strangely  different  woman ;  to  discuss  her 
with  his  hostess  was  like  analyzing  a  violet  upon  a 
gaming  table.  Instead,  he  took  Cecil  to  task  for 
having  told  Molly  to  fib,  the  day  before.  44 1  should 
think  it  was  awfully  important  to  teach  children  to 
tell  the  truth,"  he  said.  44  4  I  speak  as  a  fool,'  for  I 
don't  know  much  about  'em ;  but  judging  from  the 
experiences  of  my  own  youth,  I  should  say  they  took 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  131 

to  lying  pretty  easily.  You  instructed  Molly  so 
gracefully,  the  young  one  will  think  fibbing  is  a  fine 
art." 

This  led  to  a  discussion  upon  truth,  in  which  Mr. 
Carey  aired  very  noble  sentiments,  and  Cecil  insisted 
that  truth  was  governed  by  the  law  of  benefit. 
"  And  I  consider  that  I  was  a  benefactor  to  you  all 
by  saving  you  from  the  old  lady,"  she  said,  with 
some  earnestness.  Mr.  Carey's  carelessly  frank  as 
tonishment  at  what  she  had  done  annoyed  her  to  the 
point  of  self-defense.  "  Besides,  the  child  discrimi 
nates,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  against  Mrs.  Dale,  no  doubt,"  Roger  said ; 
but  was  so  little  interested  in  her  explanations  that 
he  hardly  waited  for  her  to  finish  another  excuse  be 
fore  he  began  to  talk  about  Job  Todd ;  his  admira 
tion  of  what  he  called  in  his  own  mind  her  "  sand  " 
in  walking  at  night  with  an  intoxicated  man  spoke 
plainly  in  his  voice. 

"  Do  tell  me  how  you  happened  to  do  it,"  he  said, 
scratching  a  match  upon  the  sole  of  his  boot,  and 
lighting  his  cigar. 

And  she  told  him ;  commenting,  when  she  ended, 
upon  the  absurdity  of  the  situation.  "  Here  they 
are,  living  a  cat-and-dog  life ;  and  we  have  to  sup 
port  their  miserable  little  children !  I  told  her  she 
was  a  great  goose  not  to  leave  him." 

"  She  was  a  goose  to  marry  him,  but  she  ought  to 
stick  to  her  bargain.  I  hope  your  dangerous  views 
did  n't  strike  in  ?  " 

"  Marriages    are    queer    things,    are  n't    they  ? " 


132  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Cecil  returned  thoughtfully.  "  Did  you  ever  notice 
how  we  say  of  all  our  friends,  4  Why  in  the  world 
did  he  marry  her  ? '  or,  '  What  possessed  her  to 
marry  him  ? ' 

"  Yes,  I  —  I  've  noticed  it,"  said  Roger  Carey, 
looking  at  the  tip  of  his  cigar. 

"  Ah,  well,  there  's  a  mistake  somewhere  in  this 
idea  of  marriage,"  Cecil  informed  him  gayly.  "  Talk 
about  matches  being  made  in  heaven  !  If  they  are, 
they  light  the  fires  of  —  the  other  place  very  success 
fully." 

"  Well,  you  help  to  light  the  fires  with  bad 
advice,"  Roger  insisted  dogmatically,  and  with  that 
good-humored  contempt  of  a  woman's  opinion  which 
does  not  condescend  to  argument ;  but  he  moved  his 
chair  so  that  he  might  see  her  face  as  she  talked. 
His  first  repulsion  always  faded  after  he  had  been 
with  her  a  little  while.  Perhaps  it  was  her  repose 
which  charmed  him,  —  a  repose  so  absolute  that  to 
see  her  eyes  when  she  lifted  her  white  lids  he  had 
thus  to  move  his  chair,  for  she  would  not  turn  her 
head  when  she  spoke.  Her  voice,  between  her  melo 
dious  silences,  was  deep,  for  a  woman,  and  soft,  and 
it  had  in  it  the  delicious  clearness  and  color  of  dark 
wine ;  she  spoke  slowly,  too,  so  that  he  could  feel  the 
caress  of  sound  without  the  tension  to  catch  the 
sense.  He  heard  her  excuse  Job  Todd  because  of 
the  fatality  of  his  environment ;  he  heard  her  advo 
cate  the  irresponsibility  of  temperament.  She  talked 
well  and  cleverly,  touching,  with  the  conventional 
unconventionality  of  our  day,  on  subjects  which  a 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  133 

generation  ago  were  tabooed  between  men  and  wo 
men,  but  which  now  we  see  fit  to  discuss,  declaring 
that  there  can  be  no  consciousness  in  the  common 
place  —  though  every  man  and  woman  of  us  knows 
better !  Once  he  contradicted  her  sharply,  and  once 
he  laughed  ;  but  he  was  not  listening  closely.  "  Oh, 
now,  look  here !  "  he  said  vaguely,  with  the  intona 
tion  with  which,  to  a  man,  he  would  have  said, 
"  Bosh !  "  He  was  following  —  for  her  sleeve  was 
of  some  sheer  muslin  —  the  line  of  her  arm  from  the 
shoulder  to  the  finger  tip  :  he  saw  the  exquisite 
curves,  unmarred  by  any  ornament,  he  saw  the  faint 
color  of  her  relaxed  palm,  and  it  came  into  his  mind, 
with  that  primitive  ferocity  which  lurks  below  the 
product  of  civilization  which  is  named  a  gentleman, 
that  a  man  might  grasp  the  satin  smoothness  of  the 
round  flesh,  above  and  below  the  elbow,  and  kiss  the 
blue  vein  on  that  warm  curve  of  the  inner  arm, — 
kiss  it,  and  kiss  it,  until  — 

Roger  Carey  rose  hastily.  "  I  must  go  in ;  I  have 
some  letters  to  write.  Beg  pardon  for  interrupting 
you,  but  I  must  go  in.  I  just  remembered."  He 
dropped  her  hand  carelessly  when  he  said  "  Good 
night,"  and  then  went  hastily  to  his  own  room,  where 
for  a  long  time  he  stood  before  the  open  window 
frowning  out  into  the  darkness.  But  after  a  while 
his  face  cleared,  and  he  smiled  and  drew  a  deep 
breath.  "  She  is  a  dear  little  thing  !  "  he  said. 

Roger,  capable  of  forgetting  himself,  was  also 
capable  of  forgetting  Cecil ;  but  she  did  not  readily 
forget  him.  When  she  went  upstairs  there  was 


134  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

some  annoyance  in  her  face.  "  How  unpleasant  he 
is  !  "  she  thought,  and  sat  down  in  front  of  her 
mirror,  looking  absently  into  its  shadowy  depths. 
"  Very  unpleasant,  but  —  Then  she  half  laughed 
and  sighed,  and,  leaning  her  elbow  on  the  table, 
looked  long  and  deeply  into  the  glass.  . 

The  room  was  lighted  only  by  the  candles  on  the 
dressing  table,  for  the  night  was  warm  and  still. 
Cecil,  moving  about,  stopped  to  trim  the  wicks, 
and  then  stood,  the  snuffers  in  her  hand,  absorbed 
in  thought.  Some  one  knocked,  and  she  answered 
absently,  without  turning  her  head,  "  Come  in  ; " 
then,  with  a  start,  she  saw  her  husband's  face  in  the 
mirror. 

"  What,  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  can  you  spare  me  a  few  moments  ?  "  said 
Philip;  but,  involuntarily,  he  stood  still  on  the 
threshold,  in  the  quick  delight  of  the  artist  at  that 
sumptuous  figure,  standing  there  in  the  faint  dusk 
of  the  candlelight.  Somehow,  the  beauty  of  it,  and 
the  sense  of  his  absolute  ownership,  took  him  by  the 
throat  for  one  bad  moment  that  sent  the  blood  into 
his  face.  All  this  beauty  which  enchanted  and 
invited  him,  this  length  of  shining  hair,  the  white 
column  of  the  stately  throat,  was  his ;  for  was  she 
not  his  wife? 

But  the  soul  of  the  man  knew  better. 

"  Of  course  I  can  spare  you  a  few  moments," 
Cecil  answered,  smiling,  and  sitting  down,  one  white 
bare  arm  along  the  back  of  her  chair,  and  the  other 
on  the  dressing  table. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  135 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  late,"  he  said,  "  but  I  saw  your 
light,  and  I  was  anxious  to  speak  to  you.  I  won't 
detain  you  very  long." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  apologetic,"  she 
interposed  good  naturedly.  "Sit  clown,  won't  you?" 

There  was  a  certain  intent  look  in  Philip's  face 
that  did  not  escape  Cecil.  "  I  have  attacks  of 
nerves,"  she  had  once  said,  "  but  Philip  has  attacks 
of  soul !  "  Such  attacks  were  not  agreeable  to  her, 
though  she  bore  them  with  remarkable  patience. 
She  thought  now,  watching  him  with  amused,  critical 
eyes,  that  such  an  attack  was  imminent.  "  I  sup 
pose,"  she  reflected,  "that  this  sort  of  thing  attracted 
me  at  first,  because  it  was  odd.  Yes,  and  there  is 
an  intellectual  value,  too ;  Philip  is  no  fool." 

"  I  hope  nothing  has  bothered  you  ? "  she  said, 
aloud. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  Molly." 

"Molly!  Why,  what  is  the  matter?  Is  she  ill? 
What  about  Molly  ?  "  Her  face  changed  sharply, 
and  she  half  rose. 

"  No  ;  nothing,  nothing  ;   she  is  quite  well." 

Cecil  sank  back  in  her  chair,  with  a  quick  breath 
of  relief.  "  Oh,  you  startled  me  so !  "  she  said,  her 
color  coming  again.  Her  hair,  falling  over  her 
shoulders,  was  pulled  sideways  by  her  change  of  posi 
tion  ;  she  caught  it  and  twisted  it  in  a  rope,  and 
wrapped  it  about  one  bare  arm ;  a  faint  gleam  touched 
a  gilt  thread  here  and  there  in  the  soft  coil,  as  the 
flames  of  the  candles  behind  her  bent  and  flared  in 
a  sudden  light  draught.  "  I  wish  you  would  n't  come 


136  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

in  and  frighten  me  this  way,"  she  told  him  irritably,, 
"  Well,  what  is  it?  What  do  you  want?" 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  "  -  he  spoke  slowly,  and  his 
manner  was  guardedly  polite  —  "  I  want  to  call 
your  attention  to  the  danger  of  giving  Molly  an  idea 
that  truth  is  not  important.  I  noticed  yesterday 
morning  — 

"Yesterday  morning?"  she  broke  in.  "Oh,  you 
mean  c  not  at  home '  ?  Oh,  now,  really,  Philip,  do 
you  think  it  worth  while  to  discuss  a  social  form  ? 
I  'm  pretty  patient  with  your  ideas  generally,  but 
really !  " 

"  I  'm  not  talking  about  a  social  form ;  I  'm  talk 
ing  about  the  spirit  of  truth.  We  debauch  a  child's 
soul  when  we  allow  it  to  sink  its  directness  in  what 
we  call  a  social  form.  Molly  can't  discriminate. 
She  tells  what  she  thinks  is  a  lie,  and  finds  it  in 
dorsed,  in  fact  suggested,  by  us." 

"  '  Us  ' !  "  Cecil  repeated,  and  laughed.  "Philip, 
your  politeness  leads  you  dangerously  near  this  same 
debauchery  yourself.  Pray  don't  consider  my  feel 
ings.  Tell  the  truth,  and  shame  —  me.  Oh,  I  '11 
not  send  any  more  such  messages  by  her,  if  it  dis 
tresses  you  so  much.  But  don't,  don't,  at  midnight, 
begin  about  the  '  spirit  of  truth ' !  Must  you, 
Philip?" 

All  her  good  nature  had  come  back  again,  for  she 
was  sleepy. 

Philip  Shore  made  110  appeal  for  any  deeper  mo 
tive  in  her  acquiescence  than  this  mere  contemptuous 
consideration  of  his  wishes ;  the  time  for  such  appeals 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  137 

seemed  to  him  long  gone  by.  "  Thank  you,"  he 
said.  "And  there 's  one  other  thing.  Molly  hap 
pened  to  speak  about  that  prayer  of  hers  —  to  the 
devil,  you  know  ?" 

"Yes,  well?  What  of  it?  It  was  very  funny. 
Did  she  repeat  it  to  you  ?  " 

"  Repeat  it  ?  Of  course  not.  Do  you  suppose  I  'd 
let  the  child  think  her  prayer  could  be  amusing? 
That  is  what  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about ;  it  was 
outrageous  to  make  a  jest  of  the  child's  prayer !  " 

Cecil  dropped  her  arm  on  her  dressing  table  with 
a  soft  crash.  "  OA,  dear  me ! "  she  said,  and  then 
swallowed  a  yawn  which  brought  the  water  into  her 
eyes  and  made  her  smile.  "  (I  beg  your  pardon.) 
Philip,  if  you  had  the  slightest  sense  of  humor,  you 
would  be  spared  much.  The  idea  of  being  harrowed 
because  I  laughed  at  Molly's  prayer !  And  really, 
I  must  protest ;  I  can't  have  my  child  praying  to  the 
devil,  —  if  that  is  what  you  want.  I  mean  that 
Molly  shall  have  some  religious  teaching,  and  know 
that  one  doesn't  pray  to  the  devil." 

"  Certainly.  Check  it,  by  all  means.  But  the 
point  I  make  is  this :  when  you  treated  her  prayer, 
which  according  to  your  theology  was  bad,  as  a  joke, 
you  robbed  the  child  of  reverence." 

"  Your  ideas  of  reverence  are  interesting :  Rev 
erence,  and  a  prayer  to  the  devil." 

"  It  is  the  prayer  which  I  revere.  The  name 
4  God '  or  '  devil '  is  nothing,  the  instinct  of  prayer 
is  everything ;  and  you  laughed  at  it,  and  made  the 
child  repeat  it ;  you  turned  it  into  a  show.  It  was 


138  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE, 

shocking  !  "  His  anger  with  her  grew  as  he  put  it 
into  words.  "  I  know  you  have  no  reverence  your 
self,  but,  for  Heaven's  sake,  don't  rob  the  child  of 
it." 

Cecil  sighed.  It  was  nearly  a  year  since  Philip's 
last  attack  of  "  soul ; "  she  felt  that  she  owed  him 
a  hearing  for  so  long  a  holiday,  but  she  wished  he 
would  hurry.  "  Go  on,"  she  said  resignedly ;  but 
could  not  help  adding,  "  It  is  interesting  to  hear  you 
advocating  religious  teaching,  —  you,  a  skeptic.  Oh, 
Philip,  there  !  I  did  n't  mean  to  call  down  a  state 
ment  of  your  faith !  " 

"Don't  be  alarmed,"  he  said  dryly.  "  I  shouldn't 
make  such  a  statement  to  you." 

"  There 's    one    thing    that    always    interests    me 
about  you  good  people,"  returned   Cecil,  yawning : 
"  not  your  certainty  that  the  rest  of  us  are  swine,  — 
no    doubt  we  are,  —  but  your  certainty   that  your 
opinions  are  pearls." 

"  My  only  certainty  is  that  there  is  no  skepticism 
so  dreadful  as  that  which  finds  no  seriousness  in 
life,"  he  answered  significantly. 

"  If  you  mean  that  for  me,"  she  protested,  "  my 
dear  friend,  no  one  finds  life  more  serious  than  I  ; 
especially  on  such  occasions." 

"  You  don't  know  what  it  means,  even,"  he  said 
angrily.  "If  you  did,  you  would  be  incapable  of 
treating  lightly  the  instinct  of  worship  in  a  child's 
soul!" 

It  seemed  that  his  words  had  some  effect,  for  she 
sat  without  speaking,  tapping  one  foot  upon  the 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  139 

floor,  and  pulling"  with  a  restless  finger  at  her  red 
lip.  But  her  flippancy  was  so  intolerable  to  him 
that  he  turned  to  leave  the  room.  "  I  don't  often 
interfere,"  he  said,  pausing  011  the  threshold,  for  her 
continued  silence  restrained  him  like  some  spoken 
word,  — "  I  don't  often  interfere  about  Molly,  but 
in  a  thing  of  such  vital  importance  as  — 

"  Look  here,  Philip,"  she  interrupted.  "  You 
and  I  will  never  agree  about  Molly,  so  what  is  the 
use  of  talking  about  it  ?  I  will  never  allow  her  to 
be  taught  your  dreadful  agnostic  ideas ;  I  'd  rather 
have  her  pray  to  the  devil  upon  the  housetops,  to 
the  amusement  of  everybody.  No,  we  '11  never  agree 
about  her  ;  but  oh,  life  would  be  so  much  more  com 
fortable  if  you  would  just  make  up  your  mind  to 
that  fact.  You  go  your  way,  and  I  '11  go  mine." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  you  teach  her  your  ideas,  and  I  '11  teach 
her  mine." 

"  Oh,  I  —  I  misunderstood  you  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
his  voice  suddenly  harsh ;  and  then  he  was  silent  a 
moment  until  he  said,  "  That 's  perfectly  absurd ; 
it  would  be  as  though  you  said  a  thing  was  white, 
and  I  said  it  was  black.  She  would  end  by  not  be 
lieving  either  of  us.  No,  I  shan't  contradict  your 
religious  teaching ;  but  you  must  not  ignore  moral 
teaching,  —  that  I  shall  insist  upon.  I  shan't  say 
that  this  or  that  doctrine  seems  to  me  ridiculous  ; 
but  I  do  insist  that  while  your  teaching  is,  as  I 
think,  intellectually  crooked,  it  is  not,  also,  morally 
crooked." 


140  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE, 

Cecil's  face  had  grown  slowly  white.  "  This  is 
insufferable  !  "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  She  turned 
her  back  upon  him,  and,  shaking  her  hair  loose, 
began  to  braid  it  with  trembling  fingers.  "  Philip., 
I  shall  do  exactly  as  I  please.  You  can  make  up 
your  mind  to  that.  Good-night.  Please  go.  You 
are  perfectly  impossible.  Please,  go."  Anger  vi 
brated  in  her  scantily  civil  words.  She  saw  him,  in 
the  mirror,  hesitate,  and  then  turn  away. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  she  said,  violently, 
under  her  breath,  "  You  fool !  " 


XL 


Women  never  reason,  or,  if  they  do,  they  either  draw  correct 
inferences  from  wrong-  premises  or  wrong  inferences  from  correct 
premises ;  —  and  they  always  poke  the  fire  from  the  top. 

WHATELY. 

"  I  'LL  go  and  see  Utile  Dulci,"  said  Dr.  Laven- 
dar  to  himself,  with  a  sigh. 

It  was  Friday  afternoon,  and  Joseph  was  to  be  at 
home  the  next  day ;  but  in  spite  of  that  his  brother 
had  received  a  letter  from  him. 

Dr.  Lavendar  had  been  working  at  his  lathe, 
for  it  was  five  o'clock,  and  this  was  his  free  hour. 
As  he  worked  he  thought  very  much  about  his  book, 
and  he  perceived,  suddenly,  a  chance  for  a  new  sub 
division,  —  The  Relation  of  Precious  Stones  to  the 
Science  and  Practice  of  Medicine.  The  very  title 
was  rich  with  suggestions  !  He  saw  at  a  glance  the 
possibilities  of  psychical  investigations ;  delusions 
and  illusions,  and  their  uses  ;  and  of  course  a  dozen 
instances  and  minor  histories.  He  sighed  with  hap 
piness,  and  made  a  little  mental  calculation,  as  he 
had  done  many  times  before,  as  to  the  probable 
amount  of  money  the  book  would  earn  for  Joey. 

The  window  was  open  beside  him,  for  it  was  hot, 
and  the  hum  of  the  bees  outside  mingled  with  the 
buzz  of  his  diamond-wheel ;  his  thin,  veined  fingers 
were  grimy  with  oil,  and  his  face  was  full  of  that 


142  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

satisfaction  in  accomplishment  which  has  no  relation 
to  the  value  of  the  thing  accomplished.  O»e  sees  it 
on  the  face  of  a  child  who  surveys  with  ecstasy  his 
mud  pie,  or  in  the  eye  of  a  woman  measuring  the 
day's  toil  on  a  piece  of  embroidery  for  which  the 
world  has  no  need.  It  must  be  a  comfortable  frame 
of  mind,  this  satisfaction  with  achievement  without 
relation  to  value  ;  perhaps  still  higher  beings  than  we 
who  observe  the  mud  pies  and  embroidery  may  envy 
us  our  anxious  and  happy  preoccupation  in  our  little 
reforms,  or  philanthropies,  or  arts,  —  who  knows  ? 

Dr.  Lavendar,  his  stiff  white  hair  standing  up 
very  straight,  his  spectacles  pushed  up  on  his  fore 
head,  his  head  sunk  between  his  shoulders,  was  say 
ing  to  himself  that  he  had  never  got  so  fine  a  polish 
on  a  carnelian.  He  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  chair,  his 
knees  together  to  make  a  lap  for  a  dropping  tool  or 
stone,  his  gaitered  feet  wide  apart  to  afford  room  for 
Danny  to  lie  between  them.  His  sermon  was  writ 
ten  ;  he  had  made  three  parochial  calls,  —  one  of 
them  upon  Mrs.  Pendleton  ;  he  had  seen  a  little 
blind  horse  —  bought  because  it  was  blind  and  ill 
treated  —  installed  in  his  stable  ;  and  he  had  put  an 
unequaled  polish  upon  the  carnelian.  No  wonder 
his  face  beamed  with  satisfaction. 

And  then  arrived  Mr.  Joseph's  letter. 

It  startled  him  so  that  he  must  have  stepped 
upon  Danny,  for  the  little  grizzled  dog  yelped 
sharply,  and  Dr.  Lavendar,  frowning  with  anxiety 
lest  Joey  should  be  writing  to  say  that  he  was  ill  and 
could  not  come  home  on  Saturday,  paused,  the  un- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  143 

opened  letter  in  his  hand,  to  feel  the  little  gray  legs 
remorsefully  and  pull  the  ragged  ears  as  an  assurance 
that  his  awkwardness  was  unintentional. 

Then  he  read  the  letter. 

The  experience  of  the  human  race  should  have 
decided  by  this  time  whether  it  is  best  to  commu 
nicate  unpleasant  news  by  word  of  mouth  or  in 
writing  ;  but  Mr.  Joseph  Lavendar,  like  all  the  rest 
of  us,  had  had  twenty  minds  about  it.  He  had  some 
thing  to  say  which  his  brother  would  not  like  to  hear. 
Should  he  tell  it  or  should  he  write  it  ?  One  or  the 
other  must  be  done,  for  Mr.  Lavendar  was  meditat 
ing  an  important  step,  and  he  was  incapable  of  such 
disloyalty  as  acting,  and  then  telling.  The  week 
before,  he  had  decided  to  talk  it  out  over  their  pipes 
in  the  arbor ;  but  it  had  rained,  and  they  had 
smoked  indoors.  Now,  it  is  a  fact  that,  if  one  sets 
one's  mind  on  doing  a  thing  in  one  way,  it  is  quite 
difficult  to  do  it  in  any  other  way.  So  Mr.  Laven 
dar,  owing  to  the  rain,  had  carried  his  secret  back 
with  him  to  Mercer.  But  the  consciousness  of 
secrecy  was  misery.  So  he  wrote  his  letter  ;  carried 
it  about  in  his  pocket  for  one  uncertain,  hesitating 
day ;  mailed  it  on  a  sudden  impulse,  and  had  regret 
ted  it  ever  since ;  because  perhaps  he  ought  to  have 
spoken  its  news  ? 

He  followed  the  letter  in  his  thoughts  on  its  jour 
ney  in  the  battered  leather  mail-bag  down  to  Old 
Chester.  His  heart  burned  and  ached  as  he  fancied 
his  brother  opening  it  and  reading  it ;  he  knew  the 
old  clergyman's  pipe  would  go  out,  that  he  would  turn 


144  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

his  back  upon  the  lathe,  —  perhaps  even  upon  an 
unfinished  sermon.  Oh,  when  we  receive,  as  we  all 
do  now  and  then,  a  letter  that  strikes  us  to  the  heart, 
at  least  let  us  feel  that  the  writer,  too,  calculating 
to  the  moment  its  arrival,  may  be  turning  hot  and 
cold,  as  do  we  while  we  read  it. 

"  I  am  sure,  my  dear  James,"  Mr.  Lavendar  had 
written,  —  "  I  am  sure  you  will  be  glad  to  know  that 
I  have  placed  my  affections  upon  a  lady  for  whom 
I  have  the  highest  respect.  Indeed,  I  am  confident 
that  you  will  feel  as  warmly  as  I  do  toward  her 
when  you  truly  know  her,  —  which,  my  dear  brother, 
judging  from  your  opinions  expressed  about  the  es 
timable  Mrs.  Pendleton,  you  do  not  at  present.  It 
is  my  intention  to  beg  her  to  accept  my  hand  ;  and 
my  deepest  desire,  apart  from  the  hope  that  she  may 
accept  it,  is  that  I  may  have  your  sympathy  in  my 
suit." 

It  was  after  supper  that  Dr.  Lavendar,  still  quite 
shaken  from  this  distressing  letter,  said  to  himself, 
"  I  '11  go  and  see  Utile  Dulci." 

He  sighed  deeply  as  he  took  his  hat  and  stick,  and 
called  Danny,  and  went  plodding  up  the  road  to  Miss 
Carr's  house.  Of  course  he  did  not  mean  to  speak 
to  her  of  his  dismay  at  Joey's  plan,  but  he  might 
perhaps  skirt  the  subject,  if  only  in  his  thoughts  ; 
and  she,  being  a  strong,  good  woman,  an  "  intelligent 
person,"  would,  quite  unconsciously,  give  him  some 
sort  of  comfort. 

There  was  no  light  in  Susan  Carr's  parlor  as  Dr. 
Lavendar  went  groping  through  the  hall,  —  for,  in 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  145 

friendly  Old  Chester  fashion,  the  front  door  was 
open,  —  and  the  house  seemed  quite  empty  and  de 
serted.  He  could  hear  Miss  Susan's  Ellen  moving 
heavily  about  in  the  kitchen,  singing  in  a  thin  voice 
and  with  unmistakable  camp-meeting  emphasis  one 
of  those  fierce  evangelical  hymns  which  display  such 
a  singular  and  interesting  conception  of  the  Deity. 
Dr.  Lavendar  sat  down  in  the  twilight  of  the  silent 
room,  and  drew  a  long  breath  ;  his  head  sunk  upon 
his  breast,  and  his  eyes  fixed  absently  upon  the  floor. 
He  was  thinking,  as  most  people  do  at  some  time  or 
other  in  their  lives,  that  this  matter  of  falling  in  love 
knew  no  rule  of  reason,  or  common  sense,  or  obvious 
propriety. 

"  There  ought  to  be  a  law  to  prevent  foolishness," 
he  said  to  himself  despairingly.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  foolishness  in  the 
world ;  why,  even  in  little  Old  Chester,  just  see  what 
folly  there  had  been :  Could  anything  have  been 
more  absurd  than  for  William  Dray  ton  to  marry 
that  ridiculous  Fanny  Dacie  ?  Could  anything  be 
sadder  than  for  a  man  like  Philip  Shore  to  have 
bound  himself  to  a  selfish,  sensuous,  soulless  creature 
like  poor  Cecil?  And  there  was  Eliza  Todd,  run 
ning  into  the  trap  of  marriage  with  a  drunkard 
whom  she  hoped  to  reform.  "  Foolishness  !  foolish 
ness  !  "  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  nodding,  and .  pressing 
his  lips  together,  his  forehead  wrinkling  up  to  his 
short  white  hair.  "  And  now  to  think  that  Joey 
should  be  foolish !  "  Then  he  heard  Susan  Carr's 
step,  and  looked  up  with  a  vague  apprehension  of 


146  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

comfort  to  be  found  in  her  mere  presence.  She 
struck  his  hand,  man  fashion,  in  a  hearty  welcome, 
and  said  in  her  clear,  strong  voice  that  he  had  scared 
her  when  she  saw  him  sitting  there  alone  in  the 
dark. 

"  I  Ve  just  been  in  to  say  good-evening  to  Mrs. 
Pendleton,"  she  explained.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell 
Ellen  to  run  over  for  me  ?  " 

The  dogmatic,  gentle  old  man  felt  his  heart  sud 
denly  come  up  in  his  throat  ;  if  he  could  only  tell 
her  all  about  it !  She  looked  so  wise  and  simple  as 
she  sat  there  in  the  dusk  beside  him  ;  her  face  was 
full  of  that  clear,  fresh  color  that  tells  of  rain  and 
sunshine ;  her  whole  strong,  vigorous  body  seemed  to 
bring  the  scent  of  the  friendly  earth  and  the  breath 
of  growing  trees  into  the  still  room.  And  to  think 
that  Joey  should  be  foolish,  when  here  was  Susan 
Carr,  whom  he  might  have  had  !  For  of  course  she 
could  not  —  no  woman  could  —  resist  Joey.  His 
voice  actually  trembled  when  he  said  he  had  just 
dropped  in  for  a  moment.  "  No,  no  ;  nothing  special. 
So  you  've  been  to  call  on  your  neighbor  ?  " 

Now,  Susan  Carr  had  that  reverence  for  her 
clergyman  as  the  vehicle  of  grace  which  all  good 
women  feel,  —  a  reverence  often  so  devoid  of  reason 
that  it  may  be  accompanied,  where  the  clergyman  is 
their  junior,  with  a  recollection  of  having  dandled 
the  vehicle  of  grace  upon  their  knees,  or  even 
spanked  him  in  his  tender  youth.  But  in  spite  of 
Susan  Carr's  reverence  she  could  not  help  feeling 
that  sometimes  Dr.  Lavendar  was  hard  upon  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  147 

little  sleek  neighbor.  She  felt  it  now  in  his  harmless 
question ;  and  though  she  would  not  for  the  world 
have  seemed  to  reprove  her  pastor,  she  made  haste  to 
say  a  good  word  for  Mrs.  Pendleton  :  "  She  's  a 
pleasant  person,  I  think." 

"  Ho  !  "  said  Dr.  Lavendar. 

At  which  Miss  Susan  cheerfully  changed  the  sub 
ject.  She  asked  him  about  his  book ;  and  he  told 
her,  listlessly,  of  the  chapter  upon  The  Relation  of 
Precious  Stones  to  the  Science  and  Practice  of  Medi 
cine.  He  said  he  had  not  talked  it  over  with  Joey, 
but  he  felt  sure  Joey  would  think  it  an  admirable,  in 
fact  a  necessary  discursion.  "  Though  it  will  delay 
the  book  a  little ;  but,  fortunately,  Joey  is  in  110 
hurry  for  it,  financially." 

Then  he  fell  into  a  moody  silence,  and  Miss  Carr 
talked ;  she  spoke  of  Lyssie  and  Mr.  Carey,  and,  a 
little  sadly,  of  Cecil.  "  She  has  never  belonged  to 
us  as  Lyssie  does,"  said  Miss  Susan ;  and  in  a 
troubled,  hesitating  way  she  added  something  about 
Philip  and  his  wife :  "  They  don't  seem  as  affection 
ate  as  I  could  wish.  I  can't  help  feeling  anxious 
about  them  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  seen  them  together  since  they  've  been 
here.  But  I  was  always  doubtful  about  that  mar 
riage,"  Dr.  Lavendar  answered,  nodding  his  head. 
"  Look  at  'em,  —  fire  and  ice.  He  's  a  good  fellow, 
fine  fellow  ;  but  she  never  had  a  chance,  poor  child. 
Just  think  of  being  brought  up  by  Fanny  Dacie  !  " 

"  Well,  it  was  n't  always  easy  for  poor  Fanny," 
Misg  Carr  reminded  him,  good  naturedly. 


148  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  Oh  well,  nothing  ever  was  easy  for  her,  was  it  ?  " 
said  Dr.  Lavendar.     "  Dear  me,  how  she  does  enjoy 
misery  !     That  was  a  queer  marriage,  too,  —  Willi.-  .: 
Drayton  and  Fanny  Dacie.     Well,  well,  marriage  is 
a  very  strange  thing,  Miss  Susan  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  was,"  Miss  Susan  agreed,  with 
the  modesty  of  one  who  has  really  110  right  to  an 
opinion.  Then,  to  her  dismay,  she  felt  herself  blush 
ing.  What  would  Dr.  Lavendar  think  if  he  knew 
that  Joseph  was  meditating  this  "  strange  thing  "  ? 
As  for  Dr.  Lavendar,  he  sighed  deeply. 

"  Miss  Susan,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  do  you  think 
your  neighbor  has  any  —  ah  —  wish  to  marry 
again?" 

"  Dear  me !  why,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing. 
Oh  no,  Dr.  Lavendar  ;  I  've  heard  her  say  that  she 
could  not  endure  second  marriages.  And  just  see 
what  deep  mourning  she  wears." 

"  Have  you  really  heard  her  say  that  ?  "  he  asked 
eagerly.  "  Well,  now,  well !  I  'm  pleased  to  hear 
it.  I  'm  glad  she  has  so  proper  a  feeling  about  mar 
riage." 

"  She  has  to  give  up  her  money  if  she  marries 
again :  at  least,  so  they  say.  I  think  that  shows 
how  attractive  her  husband  thought  her,"  Miss  Susan 
observed,  with  mild  reproof. 

"  It  shows  him  to  have  been  a  dog  in  the  man 
ger  !  "  Dr.   Lavendar  cried   joyously.     "  But  no,  I 
had  not   heard  that.     Well,  she  '11  never  marry,  — 
unless  she  finds  a  man  with  money  enough  to  cover 
her  loss.     Joey  and  I  —  ah  —  differ  a  little  in  our 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  149 

judgment  of  your  neighbor.     I  wonder  if  he  knows 
this  about  the  disposition  of  the  money  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  Miss  Susan  answered 
constrainedly :  even  such  careless  reference  to  Mr. 
Joseph  made  her  conscious. 

Dr.  Lavendar  felt  suddenly  cheered.  Of  course 
Mrs.  Pendleton  would  not  marry  Joey.  Give  up 
her  money  for  a  poor  music  teacher?  Not  she! 
Dr.  Lavendar  was  almost  gay. 

"  Come,  Danny,"  he  said,  "  we  must  be  going 
home.  Well,  Utile  Dulci,  I  'm  always  the  better  for 
a  talk  with  you.  The  fact  is,  I  had  something  on 
my  mind  when  I  came  up,  but  I  believe  it  will  all 
come  out  right." 

"  Has  Job  been  troubling  you  again  ?  "  Miss 
Susan  asked  sympathetically.  "  Is  there  anything 
I  can  do  ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  n't  Job.  I  was  a  little  anxious  about 
—  about  some  matter  in  which  I  feared  Joey  was 
going  to  be  disappointed.  Nothing  of  importance  — 
at  least  —  yes,  it 's  very  important ;  but  I  did  n't 
mean  to  speak  of  his  affairs,  I  'm  sure.  Well,  you  've 
done  me  good,  as  you  always  do,  and  I  'm  sure 
everything  will  come  out  all  right." 

Susan  Carr's  face  flamed ;  she  stepped  back  from 
his  outstretched  hand,  the  quick  tears  stinging  in  her 
eyes.  "  Oh  —  Dr.  Lavendar,"  she  stammered. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  peering  at  her  in  the  dusk,  and 
blinking  with  astonishment,  "  why,  do  you  —  has  he 
spoken  to  you  ?  " 

"  He  wrote,"  faltered  Miss  Susan,  "  but  that  was 


150  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

a  month  ago.  I  hoped  —  by  this  time,  he  had  for 
gotten  it."  Her  agitation  was  apparent. 

("  Why,  how  she  feels  it !  "  Dr.  Lavendar  thought. 
"  She  knows  what  a  fool  the  Pendleton  woman  is.") 

"You  are  a  good  friend,"  he  said  warmly. 
"Joseph  couldn't  have  done  better  than  write  to 
you,  —  though  he  did  not  mention  to  me  that  he  had 
done  so.  No,  he  has  n't  forgotten  it ;  and,  my  dear 
Miss  Susan,  this  is  the  time  to  prove  your  friendship 
for  Joey  ;  he  never  needed  it  more  than  he  does  now. 
Of  course  I  could  n't  have  spoken  to  you  before 
he  did,  but  I  can't  tell  you  what  a  relief  it  is  to 
know  that  he  has  done  it  himself.  I  depend  on 
you,  Susan.  I  might  as  well  tell  you  I  have  been 
very  anxious  and  distressed  about  it."  He  sighed 
deeply ;  "  However,  what  you  have  said  makes  me 
feel  better." 

Poor  Susan  Carr  nearly  wept.  "  Oh,  Dr.  Laven 
dar,  please  don't !  I  can't  bear  to  have  you  speak  of 
it.  It 's  no  use  —  and  —  and  I  'm  so  unhappy,  so 
disappointed." 

Unhappy?  disappointed?  Dr.  Lavendar  stood, 
with  his  mouth  open,  looking  at  her.  Why  was 
Susan  Carr  so  overcome  at  this  prospect  of  Joey's 
foolishness?  He  saw  how  tightly  her  hands  were 
clasped  on  the  back  of  a  chair  in  front  of  her  ;  he 
heard  her  voice  break  and  tremble.  Could  it  be 
that  —  Dr.  Lavendar  was  appalled.  A  terrible  pos 
sibility  flashed  into  his  mind.  "  My  dear  Miss 
Susan  —  my  dear  Miss  Susan !  "  he  said.  He  forgot 
the  danger  that  threatened  Joey,  in  his  grief  at  this 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  151 

other  grief  which  he  had  never  suspected.  "  I  can't 
tell  you  what  this  is  to  me  !  I  had  110  idea  —  I 
never  supposed  that  you  — 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  she  said  faintly ;  "  I  'm  very 
sorry.  I  'm  sure  I  'd  do  anything  I  could ;  but  one 
can't  make  —  affection." 

Dr.  Lavendar's  jaw  actually  dropped  with  dismay  ; 
he  saw  in  a  flash  Susan  Cart's  mortification  when, 
alone,  she  should  reflect  upon  this  extraordinary  loss 
of  self-control ;  he  felt  his  very  ears  burn  for  her  ; 
he  was  glad  the  room  was  dark,  so  that  he  could  not 
see  her  face  ;  he  wanted  to  get  away ;  and  yet  her 
trembling  voice  went  to  his  heart.  He  took  j^er 
hand  very  tenderly  in  his.  "  Good-night,  my  dear 
friend,"  he  said.  "  This  —  this  is  very  dreadful. 
But  I  hope  it  will  not  be  what  we  fear.  I  '11  do  my 
part,  you  may  be  sure  of  that ;  there  's  nothing  I 
want  more,  —  I  .'11  do  my  part.  Good-night,  my 
dear  Susan.  God  bless  you."  He  took  his  hat, 
and  went  stumbling  into  the  hall,  where  he  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  swallowed  once  or  twice,  and 
winked  hard ;  then  she  heard  him  come  back. 
"  Susan,"  he  said  tremulously,  "  never  mind  having 
spoken  to  me.  I  feel  your  confidence  just  as  though 
you  were  my  sister,  and  —  and  I  wish  you  were  !  " 


XII. 

June  takes  up  the  sceptre  of  May 
And  the  land,  beneath  his  sway 
Blooms,  a  dream  of  blossoming-  closes, 
And  the  very  wind  's  at  play 
With  Sir  Love  among-  the  roses. 

HENLEY. 

"LYSSIE  —  I  beg  your  pardon  —  Miss  Lyssie  "  — 
Roger  Carey  paused  to  be  told  that  lie  was  forgiven, 
and  perhaps  to  hear  that  he  might  drop  the  title  ;' 
but  Miss  Drayton  did  not  even  smile  at  the  slip  or 
the  apology.  -Do  you  know  that  I've  got  to  go 
away  from  Old  Chester  next  week  ?  In  fact,  by 
rights  I  ought  to  have  been  at  work  a  week  ago.'" 

Alicia,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  asked  no  ex- 
planation  of  this  neglect  of  duty;  she  only  said  that 
she  wondered  that  anybody  liked  to  be  in  town  in 
such  weather. 

"Why,  I  don't  like  it!"  cried  Roger.  "You 
wouldn't  think  I  could  like  it,  Miss  Lyssie,  if  you 
knew  how  much  I  cared  for  Old  Chester." 

"Have  you  really  liked  Old  Chester?"  Lyssie 
said,  and  blushed ;  she  wished  she  had  said  anvthino- 
but  that. 

"  It  w  like  heaven  !  "  Eoger  Carey  declared,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"Is    it?"  Alicia   asked,  with  entire  seriousness. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  153 

"  I  have  n't  traveled  about  very  much,  but  it  always 
seemed  to  me  pleasant." 

Lovers,  so  far  as  they  themselves  are  concerned, 
have  no  sense  of  humor ;  Roger  never  noticed 
Lyssie's  literalness. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  like  heaven !  " 

It  was  dusk,  and  he,  instead  of  Philip,  was  walk 
ing  home  with  Miss  Drayton.  Eric  was  jogging 
along  behind  them,  leaving  them  for  moments  to 
themselves  when  a  rustle  in  the  hedge  or  the  whir  of 
a  wing  was  too  enticing  for  the  responsibility  of 
chaperonage,  but  coming  back  again,  with  a  side- 
wise,  deprecating  glance  which  said,  "My  young 
friends,  this  shall  never  happen  again." 

Eoger  was  enchanted  to  be  alone  with  her,  but 
not  because  he  had  any  special  purpose  in  view.  In 
fact,  he  had  quite  made  up  his  mind  that  a  young 
man  with  no  special  income  has  no  right  to  have  any 
special  purpose  in  regard  to  a  nice  girl.  Indeed,  a 
lack  of  income,  together  with  periods  of  uncertainty 
as  to  whether  she  is,  after  all,  completely  and  ex 
actly  the  woman  who  can  satisfy  every  need  of  a 
man's  soul,  is  surely  an  excuse  for  being  without 
such  purpose  when  walking  home  with  her. 

Yet,  as  Eoger  Carey  was  going  away  from  Old 
Chester,  he  was,  not  unnaturally,  glad  of  this  last 
chance  to  see  Miss  Alicia  Drayton.  He  had  not 
had  the  forethought  —  he  would  have  seen  fit  to 
name  it  conceit  —  to  consider  that,  as  he  had  no 
special  purpose,  it  might  be  well  to  shield  her  from 
himself.  He  was  too  absorbed  in  watching  her ;  in 


154  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

answering  her  little  questions,  drawing  out  her  little 
opinions,  smothering  his  laughter  at  her  sweet,  un 
worldly  views ;  too  absorbed  in  feeling  that  he  should 
like  to  kneel  down  and  kiss  her  little  feet,  and  tell 
her  she  made  him  want  to  be  a  good  man,  to  give 
any  thought  to  such  responsibilities. 

"  I  'm  not  in  love,"  he  had  assured  himself  several 
times  during  the  last  week.  The  sort  of  woman 
with  whom  Mr.  Carey  had  long  ago  decided  that  he 
should  probably  fall  in  love  was  far  enough  removed 
from  this  good  child.  Still,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  he  had  insisted  upon  his  loveless  condition  far 
less  during  the  last  day  or  two,  and  he  did  not  think 
of  it  at  all  as  they  walked  along  now  in  the  dusk, 
talking  of  nothing  in  a  voice  that  meant  all  things. 

He  told  her  that  he  hoped  he  should  not  forget  to 
go  and  say  good-by  to  Mrs.  Pendleton  ;  and  she  as 
sured  him,  simply  enough,  that  he  could  not  forget  it. 

"  Why,  it  would  be  unkind  to  forget  it !  "  she  re 
minded  him,  with  a  surprised  look. 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  she  's  not  overfond  of  me,  I 
fancy,"  Roger  defended  himself.  "  I  'm  one  of  the 
relations  to  whom  her  money  would  go  if  she  married 
again,  you  know.  That  was  an  outrageous  will  of 
my  cousin's.  Ben  was  a  cub." 

"  I  should  n't  have  thought  he  would  have  wanted 
to  buy  Her  faithfulness,"  Lyssie  announced,  with  a 
little  toss  of  her  head. 

"No,  would  you?  Love  like  that  is  not  love. 
Love  does  n't  need  any  chains."  Here  he  sighed 
deeply,  for  joy  of  the  moonlight,  and  the  scent  of 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  155 

the  new  hay  in  a  field  on  their  right,  and  the  glori 
ous  word  sweet  upon  his  lips.  "  Love  is  immortal, 
don't  you  think  so  ?  Second  marriages,  anyhow, 
seem  to  me  sacrilege," 

This  he  really  felt,  being  at  the  moment  very 
young.  But  Alicia  said,  nervously,  with  a  suspicion 
of  age  in  her  manner,  "  Well,  not  always." 

And  Roger,  much  confused,  remembered  Mr. 
William  Drayton,  and  turned  the  subject. 

"  Let 's  go  out  on  the  river ;  that  little  boat  down 
by  the  bridge  belongs  to  you,  Philip  said.  Won't 
you?" 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  I  oughtn't  to,"  faltered  Alicia, 
— "  mother  might  need  me ;  but  I  'd  like  to  so 
much !  Oh  well,  just  for  a  few  minutes." 

So  they  turned,  and  walked  down  the  street  and 
out  toward  the  bridge,  where,  under  a  leaning  birch, 
Alicia's  rowboat  was  tied  to  a  small  float,  which 
rocked  and  swayed  as  Roger  jumped  down  on  it. 
He  hauled  in  on  the  painter  slippery  with  dripping 
water  grasses;  some  yellowing  birch  leaves  had  drifted 
under  a  thwart,  and  he  brushed  them  out,  and  said, 
ruefully,  that  the  boat  seemed  a  little  damp,  but  — 

"Oh,  dampness  doesn't  matter,"  said  Alicia,  (the 
idea  of  thinking  about  dampness !)  and  she  laughed, 
and  took  the  hand  that  Roger,  kneeling  to  hold  the 
skiff  against  the  float,  reached  up  to  her.  But  there 
was  a  look  in  his  upturned  face  that  made  her  heart 
give  a  sudden  beat.  "  Oh,  really,  I  'm  afraid  I 
oughtn't  to  go,"  she  said,  breathless.  "It's  late, 
and  —  " 


156  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  Get  in,  please,"  said  Mr.  Carey;  and  she  got  in, 
meekly,  for  there  was  that  in  his  voice  that  took  the 
matter  out  of  her  hands.  She  felt  that  she  must 
talk,  rapidly,  without  a  single  pause,  of  —  anything  ! 
Eric  would  do :  was  n't  he  the  dearest  old  fellow  ? 
Sometimes  she  thought  he  had  some  spaniel  blood  in 
him,  he  was  so  fond  of  the  water.  He  often  went  in 
after  sticks.  Did  Mr.  Carey  think  he  would  swim 
after  them  now  ? 

"  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  'm  a  stick,"  Eoger  re 
torted,  his  breath  catching  in  a  nervous  laugh  at  his 
own  feeble  joke. 

Eric,  however,  sat  down  upon  the  float,  and  made 
no  effort  to  follow  them.  He  thumped  his  tail  a  lit 
tle,  as  though  to  say,  "  I  trust  you ;  but  I  shall  stay 
right  here  and  watch  you,  my  children ; "  and  as  the 
boat  pushed  rustling  through  the  lily  pads  and  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  stream,  he  looked  at  them  be 
nignly,  until  his  big  black  nose  dropped  between  his 
paws,  and  it  was  an  effort  to  lift  one  eyelid  for  an 
occasional  glance  into  the  twilight. 

The  river,  full  of  shadowy  quiet,  was  so  deep  that 
there  was  not  even  the  silken,  slipping  sound  of  a 
ripple.  Roger  Carey  had  fallen  silent.  How  sweet 
she  was,  in  her  white  dress,  sitting  there  in  the  little 
old  boat,  her  eyes  looking  so  shyly  into  his,  her  voice 
speaking  what  was  always  his  own  best  thought. 
"  Dear  little  soul !  "  he  said  under  his  breath ;  he 
wanted  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  kiss  her.  He 
did  not  stop  to  inquire  whether  he  was  in  love  with 
her ;  the  moment  and  the  moonlight  were  too  much 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  157 

for  such  cynical  speculations  ;  he  felt  his  heart  beat 
ing  fast  as  he  looked  at  her ;  the  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes.  "  Dear  little  soul !  how  sweet  she  is,  how 
good  she  is."  Roger  Carey  was  experiencing  reli 
gion. 

"How  black  the  trees  look,  don't  they?"  said 
Alicia. 

«  Yes." 

The  skiff  rocked  and  swayed,  and  the  water  gur 
gled  softly  at  the  prow ;  the  branches  of  a  sycamore 
on  the  left  and  a  beech  on  the  right  nearly  met  in 
midstream  ;  the  green  dusk  began  to  wink  with  fire 
flies,  and  from  far  above,  through  the  domes  of  the 
treetops,  the  faint  moonlight  filtered  down,  and  broke 
here  and  there  upon  the  water  in  a  slipping  film  of 
icy  shine,  that  sparkled  and  was  lost,  and  sparkled 
again. 

"  It 's  growing  pretty  dark?  "  Lyssie  observed. 

"  Yes,  rather." 

Another  silence,  melodious  with  the  rhythmic  dip 
of  the  oars  and  the  low  brush  and  rustle  of  lily  pads. 
"I  never  supposed  I  could  be  so  much  in  love," 
Roger  thought,  profoundly  moved.  The  water  ran 
black  and  silent  between  the  straight  staves  of  the 
arrowheads  and  past  the  sides  of  the  boat ;  he  could 
see  her  finger  tips  dragging  lightly  upon  it ;  once 
she  leaned  over  and  caught  a  lily,  and  there  was  a 
soft  tug  of  restraint  upon  the  skiff's  smooth  progress, 
until  the  long  stem  yielded  and  she  pulled  it  in,  and 
then  seemed  absorbed  in  studying  its  fragrant,  trem 
ulous  heart. 


158  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"The  lilies  are  lovely,  aren't  they?"  she  said. 
Her  voice  had  a  nervous  thrill  in  it. 

"Yes;  oh,  very." 

"  I  think  perhaps  we  'd  better  go  back  now  ?  " 

"  Yes  ! ''  he  assented,  with  sudden  alacrity.  "  I 
—  I  can't  seem  to  talk,  somehow;  you  seem  so  far 
off,  down  at  that  end.  Let 's  go  ashore." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  staying  out  a  little  longer," 
Alicia  said  quickly.  She  held  tightly  to  the  sides  of 
the  boat,  as  though  she  would  detain  it,  and  post 
pone  that  beautiful  moment  whose  gracious  steps  she 
heard  coming  nearer  and  nearer. 

But  Roger  cut  deep  into  the  flowing  blackness 
of  the  slow  current,  and  the  skiff  swung  in  a  rocking 
circle  and  pointed  down  stream.  "  It  '11  take  me  ten 
minutes  to  get  back  to  that  float !  "  he  said  savagely, 
and  sighed  and  bent  to  his  oars.  His  thought,  if  he 
had  spoken  it,  would  have  been,  "  Why  did  I  get 
into  this  confounded  thing  ?  Why  did  n't  I  speak 
on  the  road?"  The  boat  shot  with  steady  pulls 
down  the  river. 

"  I  don't  like  to  talk  at  arm's  length,"  Roger  an 
nounced. 

Lyssie  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  say. 

"  If  we  were  in  the  house  it  would  be  better.  I 
could  —  I  could  —  we  could  talk,  I  mean." 

Lyssie,  apparently,  had  no  opinions.  He  looked 
over  at  her,  and  his  lips  trembled. 

"  Just  see  the  fireflies  !  "  Alicia  said  faintly ;  and 
Roger  Carey,  struggling  to  hold  both  oars  in  one 
hand,  flung  out  the  other  toward  her. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  159 

"  Oh,  Lyssie,  Lyssie,  I  love  you !  I  —  did  you 
know  I  loved  you  ?  Do  you  love  me  a  little  ?  Lys 
sie  ! " 

Oh,  that  wonderful  shining  moment  of  silence 
while  a  girl  gets  her  breath  after  hearing  those 
words ;  when  the  tears  rush  to  her  eyes,  and  her 
soft  throat  trembles,  and  her  heart  swells  suddenly 
with  the  passion  and  the  pain  of  joy  !  "  Hove  you  ! 
Did  you  know  I  loved  you  ?  Do  you  love  me  a  lit 
tle  ?  "  She  says  the  words  over  and  over,  and  thinks 
she  has  answered  him ;  but  she  is  silent. 

"  I  'm  not  good  enough  to  tie  your  little  shoes  ;  of 
course  I  know  that.  (Oh,  this  boat !)  I  can't  talk 
about  it,  somehow,  here.  But  if  I  can  ever  get  back 
to  that  float  I  can  —  I  can  say,  you  know,  that  you 
are  as  far  above  me  as  a  star  in  heaven." 

"  I  ?  "  said  little  Lyssie  under  her  breath.     "  Oh  !  " 

The  skiff  came  pushing  through  lily  leaves,  and 
bumped  softly  against  the  crumbling  wooden  pier ; 
the  low  voice  of  the  river  sang  between  them. 

"  Lyssie  ?  " 

He  let  the  oars  catch  and  swing  backwards,  and 
rose  with  an  impetuous  step.  The  boat  rocked  and 
dipped.  Lyssie  caught  desperately  at  the  sides. 

"Oh,  don't  —  yes!"  she  said,  the  happy  tears 
breaking  in  her  voice. 

Roger  sat  down.     "  Did  you  say  Yes  ?  " 

Alicia  nodded ;  she  could  not  speak. 

Without  a  word,  Roger  pulled  the  boat  in  against 
the  pier  ;  he  got  out  very  carefully,  and  with  a  silent 
but  not  ungentle  movement  of  his  heel  instructed  the 


160  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

affectionate  arid  joyous  Eric  to  keep  out  of  trie  way ; 
then  he  knelt  down  to  tie  the  skiff,  and  felt  sharp 
between  his  fingers  the  cold  smoothness  of  the  river 
grasses  tangled  along  the  rope ;  he  saw  the  white 
feather  of  water  under  the  boat's  prow  as  the  current 
struck  it ;  he  heard  the  wash  of  the  float  swaying 
under  his  weight ;  he  heard  the  soft  break  in  the 
breath  of  the  girl  who  loved  him.  How  alert,  how 
conscious,  how  wonderful,  the  supreme  moment ! 

"  Lyssie  !  say  it  —  just  once  more  ?  " 

He  had  no  difficulty  in  talking  now;  he  could 
hardly  wait  to  hear  again  that  enchanting  word  be 
fore  he  burst  into  the  telling  of  his  love.  And  how 
she  listened !  Her  listening  was  almost  as  beautiful 
as  any  words  she  spoke.  But  she  did  not  speak 
many. 

"  Yes  ;  "  "  yes ;  "  "  yes."  She  loved  —  she  knew 
—  she  felt  —  Oh,  symphony  of  assent ! 

Roger  said  he  was  poor;  Alicia  loved  poverty. 
He  said  he  had  no  "  prospects  "  outside  of  his  pro 
fession  ;  she  thought  "  prospects "  ruinous  to  real 
achievement.  He  confessed  that  his  practice  was 
small ;  Lyssie  felt  that  if  it  were  large  it  would  be 
a  sign  that  he  was  eager  to  make  money. 

"  There  's  so  much  more  than  that  in  living,"  the 
young  girl  said,  looking  at  him  with  believing  eyes. 
"  I  know  how  you  feel  about  mere  money-making ; 
I  heard  you  talk  to  Philip  and  Cecil  about  respon 
sibility,  and  —  and  I  liked  what  you  said." 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  ever  listened  when  I  talked. 
You  always  looked  so  remote  —  so  —  so  above  all 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  161 

the  rest  of  us.  Oh,  Lyssie,  when  did  you  first  begin 
to  care  the  least  bit  ?  " 

"  I  think  —  I  think  it  was  the  day  you  looked  at 
the  pigeons ;  no,  it  was  the  day  before  that.  Oh,  I 
don't  mean  that  I "  —  she  looked  the  word  she 
could  not  speak  —  "  but  I  liked  to  hear  you  talk." 

Perhaps  it  is  only  when  a  man  looks  back  upon  it 
that  he  realizes  the  charm  of  a  little  coquetry  on  such 
occasions ;  at  the  moment,  Roger  felt  only  the  noble 
simplicity  of  her  confession,  the  benediction  of  her 
tender,  overflowing  eyes. 

"  Why,  that  was  the  day  I  came ! "  he  said  rap- 
turdusly. 

"  When  did  you  first  know  that  you  cared  ?  "  she 
said,  divinely  shy  and  bold  at  once. 

"I?  Why  —  well-  Oh,  I  think  it  must  have 
been  the  minute  I  saw  you ;  only,  of  course  I  did  n't 
recognize  it  myself,  you  know,  until  later." 

They  walked  slowly  along  the  road.  It  was  dark, 
and  they  were  leaving  Old  Chester  behind  them; 
but  Lyssie  was  not  aware  of  either  fact ;  she  did  not 
remember  her  mother  and  her  duty  for  nearly  an 
hour,  and  then  it  was  with  a  start  of  dismay  and 
remorse. 

So  they  came  back  to  actual  life,  and  Roger 
Carey  realized  that  he  had  fallen  in  love,  and  was 
an  engaged  man.  He  was  very  much  astonished, 
but  he  found  it  very  delightful. 

They  turned  toward  Old  Chester,  and  Roger  be 
gan  to  be  silent.  Lyssie' s  stillness  fell  into  his  like 
chords  of  music  melting  into  some  larger  harmony. 


162  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

She  would  have  been  content  never  to  speak  again, 
she  thought.  It  seemed  as  though  all  were  said, 
forever.  But  Roger  had  something  to  say,  though 
he  did  not  say  it  until  they  stood  at  Alicia's  door. 
Then,  very  low,  very  anxiously,  "  Lyssie,  do  you 
know  ?  I  'm  going  to  kiss  you  before  you  go  in." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Lyssie,  "  are  —  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Eoger  answered,  very  gently.  And  then 
he  took  her  hands,  and,  with  delicate  precision,  he 
kissed  her  on  her  left  cheek,  just  below  her  ear. 

"  Oh  — oh  !  "  said  Alicia.  At  which  he  took  her 
instantly  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  heartily  right 
on  her  lips.  After  that,  it  took  nearly  twenty  min 
utes  of  adieus  to  fortify  themselves  for  absence  over 
night. 

"  You  will  come  to-morrow  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes !  Yes !  May  I  come  as  early  as  half  past 
eight?" 

"  Oh,  I  'm  afraid  that  is  a  little  early  —  " 

"  Well,  eight  forty-five?" 

"  And  I  will  tell  mother  to-night ;  and  will  you 
teU  Cecil?" 

At  which  Mr.  Carey  said  abruptly,  "  No ;  you  tell 
her,  Lyssie." 

Tell  Cecil  Shore  ?  Speak  to  such  a  woman  of 
such  an  experience?  He  thought,  tenderly,  that 
Lyssie  could  never  understand  why,  at  such  a  noble 
moment,  a  man  could  be  repelled  by  her  sister.  He 
rejoiced  in  her  ignorance  ;  perhaps  because  at  that 
tune  he  did  not  need  the  tolerance  or  the  sympathy 
which  such  ignorance  of  life  forever  precludes. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  163 

Lyssie,  after  yet  one  more  impassioned  "  Good 
night  !  "  went  into  the  house  and  closed  the  door 
upon  her  lover.  She  stood  still  in  the  hall,  listening 
to  his  retreating  footsteps,  with  her  hands  over  her 
face  and  the  sound  of  her  own  pulses  in  her  ears. 

Then  she  went  into  her  mother's  room,  where,  in 
the  lamplight,  her  eyes  vague  with  happiness  and 
the  summer  darkness,  everything  seemed  blurred 
and  dazzled ;  perhaps  that  was  why  she  did  not  see 
the  fretful  look  on  Mrs.  Drayton's  face.  She  went, 
like  a  child,  to  her  mother's  knee,  and,  slipping 
down  on  the  floor,  hid  her  face  in  her  bosom.  "  Oh, 
mother,  mother !  "  she  murmured. 

"What  is  it?  Is  anything  the  matter?"  cried 
Mrs.  Drayton,  with  nervous  sharpness. 

"  Mother  —  Roger!  " 

Mrs.  Drayton  fell  back  in  her  chair.  "  Oh,  Alicia, 
can  you  never  remember  how  weak  I  am  ?  You 
come  bouncing  into  the  room,  and  at  such  an  hour, 
too !  It 's  nine  o'clock.  I  've  been  terrified  about 
you.  I  thought  something  had  happened.  You 
have  no  consideration  at  all ;  you  know  how  anxiety 
makes  my  head  ache  —  "  She  fretted  on,  half  in 
tears,  and  then  suddenly  seemed  to  remember 
Lyssie's  whispered  word.  "  Roger  ?  What  do  you 
mean  by  c  Roger  '  ?  Why,  do  you  mean  —  has  he  — 
Why,  Lyssie ! " 

"  Oh,  mother  darling,  yes !  Just  think  of  it. 
Me  !  " 

The  tears  sprang  to  Mrs.  Drayton's  eyes.  She 
put  her  arms  about  the  kneeling  child,  and  they 


164  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

trembled  with  unconscious  tenderness.  "  Oh,  my 
dear,  my  dear  !  "  Mrs.  Dray  ton  forgot  herself  ;  she 
kissed  and  cried  over  the  girl  with  honest  mother 
love.  She  asked  a  hundred  sympathetic  questions, 
which  Lyssie  answered  dreamily,  with  little  tender 
reserves,  which  would  break  suddenly  because  of  the 
bliss  of  putting  such  wonderful  facts  into  words. 

After  the  first  reality  of  it,  Mrs.  Drayton  could 
not  help  glancing  over  Lyssie's  head  into  the  mirror. 
It  was  a  pretty  picture  :  the  frail  mother,  with  her 
delicate,  pallid  face ;  the  girl  kneeling  at  her  feet ; 
the  flood  of  soft  lamplight  shining  on  the  open  pages 
of  the  Bible  on  the  table. 

"My  child /"  murmured  Mrs.  Drayton,  resting 
her  cheek  on  Lyssie's  hair.  It  was  a  charming 
scene. 

"  Oh,  mother,"  said  Alicia,  with  a  long  sigh, 
"putting  aside  any  personal  feeling,--!  mean, 
speaking  impartially,  as  a  matter  of  judgment,  —  I 
am  certainly  a  very  fortunate  girl.  He  is  not  at  all 
like  anybody  else  ;  he  is  —  well,  mother,  just  wait 
till  you  know  him !  " 

Mrs.  Drayton  was  not  disturbed  by  Lyssie's  halt 
ing  language ;  she  had  plenty  of  words  of  her  own. 
She  began  to  speak  of  the  glory  of  duty,  the  joy  of 
self-sacrifice,  —  in  a  word,  of  love,  —  in  a  way 
which  satisfied  even  this  young  lover  at  her  feet. 
Indeed,  so  perfect  was  the  situation  that  it  would 
have  been  still  prolonged  but  for  Lyssie's  sudden 
realization  that  it  was  long  after  Mrs.  Drayton's 
bedtime.  With  a  happy  sigh  she  rose,  and  made 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  165 

haste  to  begin  her  loving  task  of  maid.  Mrs. 
Drayton's  hair  had  to  be  brushed  steadily  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  it  could  be  put  up  in  curl 
papers  ;  then  a  psalm  must  be  read,  and  the  selec 
tion  for  the  day  in  Gathered  Pearls. 

"  Oh,  mother  dear,  how  selfish  in  me  to  have  kept 
you  up !  "  Lyssie  said.  "  It  will  be  nearly  eleven 
before  you  are  in  bed." 

"  Oh  well,  a  girl  can't  be  engaged  every  day," 
said  Mrs.  Drayton  magnanimously.  "  I  'm  willing 
to  sacrifice  something  ;  we  won't  read  to-night.  I 
can  think  of  my  blessed  Bible,  and  repeat  a  hymn 
while  I  lie  awake.  Of  course  I  shall  lie  awake  after 
this  excitement.  But  never  mind  that." 

Lyssie  winced ;  but  she  thought  that  now,  since 
Eoger  loved  her,  she  would  be,  for  the  rest  of  time, 
unselfish  and  considerate.  She  would  be  good! 
She  was  very  tender  to  her  mother,  with  a  tender 
ness  which  was  half  remorse  because  of  her  own  joy. 
"  I  have  n't  done  all  I  might  to  make  her  happy," 
Lyssie  was  thinking  ;  "  and  her  life  is  so  empty  with 
out  papa." 

The  emptiness  of  life  may  have  struck  Mrs. 
Drayton,  for  she  took  occasion,  when  Lyssie  kissed 
her  good-night,  to  say  that  she  had  been  lonely. 

"  You  were  very  late  in  coming  home,"  she  said. 
"  It  was  rather  sad  to  sit  here  all  by  myself.  But 
you  were  happy,  so  I  don't  complain." 

Alicia  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  but  stopped ;  a 
strange  apprehension  gathered  in  her  heart.  It  was 
too  vague  for  words,  but  a  little  mist  crept  across 


166  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

her  joy.  Her  mother  lonely  without  her?  Well, 
but  how  would  it  be  when  she  was  —  She  did  not 
say  the  word,  but  she  adored  it  in  her  heart.  How 
would  Mrs.  Drayton  feel  when  — 

Lyssie  kissed  her  again  silently,  and  crept  softly 
o  her  own  room. 


XIII. 

I  have  no  name  — 

I  am  but  two  days  old. 

What  shall  I  call  thee  ? 

I  happy  am, 
Joy  is  my  name.  — 
Sweet  Joy  befall  thee ! 

BLAKE. 

OLD  CHESTER  grew  quite  wide  awake  over  Alicia 
Dray  ton's  engagement.  There  had  been  no  such 
sensation  since  Miss  Jane  Temple  married  beneath 
her,  and  found  happiness  and  content  in  the  home 
of  the  village  apothecary.  Of  course  Lyssie's  ro 
mance  could  not  compare  in  interest  to  Miss  Tem 
ple's  ;  it  did  not  have  in  it  anything  of  which  Old 
Chester  could  disapprove,  —  and  to  be  truly  interest 
ing  to  the  world  about  us,  we  must  not  be  too 
good.  Lyssie's  engagement  only  gave  opportunity 
for  conversation  and  speculation.  "  What  will 
Frances  Drayton  do  when  the  child  gets  married?" 
everybody  said  to  everybody  else,  although,  so  far, 
no  one  had  said  it  to  Mrs.  Drayton,  who  was  enjoy 
ing  very  much  the  importance  of  being  the  mother 
of  her  daughter.  It  was  almost  as  good  as  making 
a  sensation  herself ;  indeed,  she  entered  into  the  sit 
uation  with  so  much  histrionic  earnestness  that  she 
was  obliged  to  take  to  her  bed,  and  receive  Mrs. 
Dale  and  all  the  other  ladies,  reclining  upon  her  pil- 


168  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

lows,  attended  by  Alicia.  It  was  thus  that  Cecil 
found  her  listening  to  Mrs.  Pendle ton's  congratula 
tions,  allowing  Lyssie  to  fan  her,  and  saying  many 
noble  things  about  a  mother's  joy  in  a  child's 
•«  happiness. 

"  I  enter  so  into  Lyssie's  romance,"  said  Mrs. 
Drayton,  "  that  I  live  my  own  over  again." 

"  Except,"  Cecil  returned,  after  that  meditative 
pause  which  gave  such  weight  to  her  slow  words,  — 
"  except  that  no  youthful  indiscretion  made  Mr. 
Carey  a  widower,  he  must  indeed  remind  you  of 
papa.  But  I  almost  think,  Mrs.  Drayton,  that  in 
entering  into  Lys's  romance  yourself  you  keep  her 
out  of  it  a  little.  She  can't  listen  to  lover's  vows 
and  fan  you  at  the  same  time." 

There  was  an  eager  disclaimer  from  Lyssie,  and 
Mrs.  Drayton  said  tearfully  that  it  was  a  little  bitter 
to  have  Cecil,  who  was  exactly  like  her  own  child, 
(some  one  had  once  asked  Susan  Carr  which  was 
Mr.  Drayton's  child  by  his  first  wife  ;  she  did  not 
know  whether  she  had  ever  mentioned  that  to  Mrs. 
Pendleton  ?)  —  it  certainly  was  a  little  bitter  to 
have  Cecil  speak  so  to  her. 

As  for  Mrs.  Pendleton,  she  thought  to  herself  that 
there  was  some  truth  in  Mrs.  Shore's  remarks  ;  but 
she  only  said,  soothingly,  that  she  had  no  doubt  dear 
Roger  would  rather  have  Miss  Alicia  dutiful  than 
have  her  society. 

"  I  am  inclined  to  think,"  Mrs.  Shore  observed, 
"  that  Mr.  Carey  would  feel  that  one  included  the 
other."  And  then  she  wrung  from  Mrs.  Drayton 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  169 

an  angry  consent  that  Lyssie  should  dine  with  her 
that  night,  and  went  away,  saying  to  herself  that  she 
hoped  she  had  done  some  good. 

"  He  leaves  Old  Chester  in  three  days,"  she 
thought,  "  and  Lys,  poor  little  thing,  ought  to  see 
more  of  him."  But  she  was  not  very  hopeful ;  she 
knew  how  probable  it  was  that  Lyssie,  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  would  yield  to  her  mother's  demands  upon 
her  time  ;  indeed,  Mrs.  Shore  had  long  since  recog 
nized  that  Alicia's  especial  form  of  selfishness  was 
unselfishness. 

This  immoral  unselfishness  is  characteristic  of 
many  excellent  women.  They  practice  an  abnega 
tion  of  their  comforts,  their  rights,  their  necessities, 
even,  which  they  feel  endears  them  to  their  Maker, 
and  at  the  same  time  gives  them  real  happiness. 
Apparently  they  are  unable  to  perceive  that  this  un 
selfishness  of  theirs  brutalizes  and  enslaves  to  self  the 
man  (for  men  are  generally  the  victims  of  this  unscru 
pulous  virtue),  —  the  man  who  accepts  the  sacrifices 
made  for  him,  indeed  often  thrust  upon  him  in  spite 
of  his  gradually  weakening  protests ;  and  young 
Alicia,  painfully  conscientious  as  she  was,  never  once 
realized  that,  if  it  were  selfish  for  her  mother  to  ac 
cept  a  sacrifice,  it  was  a  sin  for  her  to  make  it. 

As  for  Cecil,  she  did  not  put  it  quite  that  way 
to  herself,  but  little  Lyssie' s  foolishness  struck  her 
with  a  sense  of  being  pathetic.  "  Little  goose,"  she 
thought,  smiling.  But  she  was  very  gentle  with 
Alicia,  looking  at  her  with  a  half-wondering  amuse 
ment. 


170  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  You  are  very  happy,  kitty,  are  n't  you  ?  "  she 
said  that  evening,  when,  before  dinner,  the  two  sisters 
were  alone  in  the  library.  "  You  are  very  happy  ?  " 

Alicia's  face,  so  radiant  and  young,  sobered  sud 
denly,  almost  to  tears.  "  Oh,  Oeci  !  "  she  said,  and 
put  her  face  down  on  Cecil's  shoulder  and  was  silent 
for  a  moment.  Something  came  into  the  eyes  of  the 
elder  woman,  that  mist  that  sometimes  dims  the  eyes 
of  a  dog,  which  cannot  weep,  but  yet  can  suffer ;  it 
is  unutterably  sad,  but  it  is  not  a  spiritual  pain. 

"  You  poor  little  thing,"  she  said,  almost  passion 
ately. 

Lyssie  looked  up,  wondering.  But  Cecil  only 
laughed,  though  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes. 

"  '  Always  to  woo,  and  never  to  wed, 

Is  the  happiest  life  that  ever  was  led  !  " 

she  cried  gayly.  "  Go  on  being  engaged,  pussy  ;  it 
is  really  very  good  fun." 

"  I  never  thought  of  anything  else  !  "  protested 
Alicia,  even  her  slender  neck  crimsoning ;  and  Mrs. 
Shore  laughed  until  she  cried  at  the  innocence  of 
the  child.  But  the  situation  seemed  to  her  a  cruel 
one ;  Lyssie  was  so  happy  ! 

Cecil  did  not  think  very  much  about  Mr.  Carey ; 
if  she  had,  she  would  have  discovered  in  herself  an 
astonishment  at  his  conduct  which  was  almost  con 
tempt.  Her  mind  was  dwelling  upon  certain  miser 
able  facts  which  are  thrust  upon  all  of  us  men  and 
women  when  we  soberly  observe  the  marriage  rela 
tion  as  we  see  it  about  us,  especially  when  we  ob 
serve  it  in  contrast  to  this  first  beautifid  dawn  of 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE,  171 

love  in  the  faces  of  two  young  lovers ;  two  who  be 
lieve  —  as  they  all  do,  or  else  they  are  not  lovers  — 
that  they,  out  of  all  the  world  of  failures  about  them, 
shall  make  permanent  that  which  is  by  its  nature 
evanescent  and  fleeting,  the  mystery  and  passion  of 
young  love.  They  need  —  ah,  what  deep  experiences, 
before  they  can  know,  two  such  sweet  optimists,  that 
it  is  as  foolish  to  hope  that  they  will  keep  love  for 
ever  young  and  mad  and  wonderful  as  it  would  be  to 
seek  to  hold  back  the  dim  beauty  of  the  dawn,  which 
must  change,  perhaps  into  a  leaden  and  dreary  day, 
perhaps  into  the  calm  glory  of  the  sunlight ;  into  a 
noon  serene  and  perfect  and  secure  as  the  light  upon 
the  face  of  God,  —  the  noon  of  married  love ! 

Cecil  Shore  believed  only  in  the  dawn.  "  Poor 
little  thing  !  "  she  thought  again,  pityingly,  as  she 
watched  Alicia's  frank  happiness.  How  cruel  it  was 
that  it  could  not  last !  These  two  sometime  would 
be  among  that  great  army  of  husbands  and  wives 
who  are  not  unhappy,  not  incompatible,  who  "  get 
along  very  well  with  each  other,"  as  they  would  say, 
—  the  very  husbands  and  wives  who  give  little  smiles 
and  shrugs  at  the  ecstasies  of  young  love  as  they  ob 
serve  it;  the  men  and  women  who,  simply,  have 
missed  the  best.  Cecil  was  not  thinking  of  the  mis 
erable  marriages,  —  there  were  such  things,  no  doubt ; 
there  were  infidelities,  cruelties,  baseness  ;  but  when 
they  happened  in  her  class  they  were  concealed.  No, 
it  was  only  the  grotesque  disillusionment  of  it  all 
that  struck  her  with  grim  amusement.  "  Poor  little 
Lys  !  "  she  thought. 


172  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

But  no  one  could  have  seemed  to  need  pity  less 
than  Alicia  Drayton.  It  might  better  have  been 
bestowed  on  her  lover,  who  felt  conscious  and  half 
irritated  all  the  time  they  were  at  table.  He  wished 
Philip  were  at  home ;  he  was  grateful  to  Molly  for 
talking  to  him ;  he  wished  Lyssie  (bless  her  dear 
little  heart !)  would  not  be  quite  so  —  so  young  ;  he 
wished  Mrs.  Shore,  with  her  slightly  cynical  smile, 
were  drowned  in  the  depths  of  the  sea.  Without 
the  slightest  reason,  he  began  to  be  angry  with  her ; 
he  answered  one  of  her  assertions  apropos  of  some 
discussion  about  the  working  classes  so  curtly  that 
Alicia  looked  apprehensively  at  her  sister  ;  but  Cecil, 
strangely  enough,  seemed  more  hurt  than  offended. 
She  colored,  and  said  that  Mr.  Carey  had  certainly 
misunderstood.  —  she  had  not  meant  quite  what  he 
supposed ;  and  she  tried  by  a  hasty  explanation  to 
bring  a  certain  seriousness  into  her  flippant  state 
ment  that  the  submerged  tenth  was  as  necessary  to 
the  higher  civilization,  to  the  culture  of  the  few,  as  a 
fertilizer  was  to  a  flower  garden. 

Roger  Carey  said  carelessly,  "  Do  you  think  your 
culture  and  mine  quite  worth  such  manure  ?  Think 
of  the  misery  of  the  sweating  system,  for  instance  ! 
Perhaps  you  are  worth  it,  Mrs.  Shore,  but  I  'in  sure 
I  'm  not."  But  when  he  saw  the  pain  and  truth  in 
Alicia  Drayton's  face,  as  she  said,  "  When  I  see 
ready-made  clothing,  I  always  wonder,  '  Who  suf 
fered  for  that  ? '"  he  felt  ashamed  of  having  para 
ded  his  irritation  in  the  dress  of  a  fine  sentiment ;  so 
he  became  rather  more  frankly  rude  to  Mrs.  Shore 
to  console  himself. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  173 

Lyssie  was  quite  discouraged,  and  gave  him  that 
little  appealing  look  which  we  see  so  often  on  the 
faces  of  those  dear  souls  who  long  to  have  us  do  our 
selves  justice.  It  said,  "  Oh,  be  nice,  Roger  ;  don't 
be  so  —  not-as-pleasant-as-usual."  But  Roger  con 
tinued  to  be  "  not-as-pleasant-as-usual  "  until  he  got 
away  from  Mrs.  Shore ;  and  then  —  ah,  well,  a  girl 
knows  of  no  adjective  to  describe  her  lover  in  those 
adorable  first  moments  when  she  has  him  to  herself, 
and  he  is  even  more  pleasant  than  usual. 

Roger  was  to  go  away  on  Tuesday,  and  he  wanted 
to  be  with  Lyssie  every  moment  that  he  could.  He 
was  still  vaguely  astonished  to  find  himself  in  love ; 
but  he  liked  it.  And  he  was  distinctly  cross  when 
Mrs.  Shore  mentioned,  casually  enough,  on  Monday, 
that  he  would  not  be  able  to  see  Lyssie  that  after 
noon. 

"  Really  you  must  be  a  little  firmer,"  she  said. 
"  She  was  to  have  gone  to  the  upper  village  this 
morning  on  some  stupid  errand  for  her  mother ;  but 
Mrs.  Drayton  wished  to  be  fanned,  so  she  had  to  put 
it  off  until  this  afternoon  ;  she  could  just  as  well 
have  gone  this  morning.  You  must  teach  her  some 
of  your  firmness,  Mr.  Carey." 

"  This  afternoon  !  "  said  Roger  blankly.  "  Why, 
I  thought  I  could  see  her  this  afternoon." 

"  Oh  well,  later  you  can  see  her,  —  when  she 
comes  back ;  about  five,  I  think.  Meantime,  I  '11 
entertain  you  by  taking  you  out  to  drive.  No,  you 
can't  go  with  Lyssie,"  she  silenced  him,  smiling. 
"  She  has  started  by  this  time.  The  people  dine 


174  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE, 

here,  you  know,  at  half  past  twelve,  so  she   started 
nearly  an  hour  ago." 

Roger  resigned  himself  to  a  drive  with  his  hostess 
with  an  ill  grace.  u  She  '11  be  back  by  five,  surely  ?  " 
he  asked,  and  intimated  to  Mrs.  Shore  that  he  carer 
to  drive  with  her  only  until  that  hour. 

And  no  one  was  more  surprised  than  Roger  Carey 
to  find  himself  at  half  past  six,  driving  into  Old 
Chester  on  the  way  back  to  his  hostess's  door. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  "  why,  what  time  is  it  ?  Are 
we  back  again  ? "  He  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
turned  red,  and  said  something  under  his  breath. 
How  could  he  have  forgotten  ?  He  asked  himself 
the  question  a  dozen  times,  finding  no  satisfactory 
answer.  But  it  was  not  so  very  remarkable  ;  human 
nature  is  human  nature.  For  one  thing,  his  com 
panion  was  a  beautiful  woman ;  but  beside  that  she 
could  talk.  To  Roger  Carey  discussion  was  like  the 
breath  in  his  nostrils,  and  when  Mrs.  Shore  took 
him  to  task  for  a  statement  of  his,  that,  without  the 
great  human  experience  of  friendship,  a  soul  was 
still  potential,  he  grew  keen  and  interested,  and  in 
tent  upon  making  his  point.  Cecil  had  declared  that 
friendship  was  very  beautiful,  —  if  there  were  such 
a  thing,  and  he  had  burst  out  in  condemnation  of  the 
insinuation.  But  her  remark  had  been  genuine 
enough :  she  had  never  experienced  friendship  ;  she 
had  known  no  schoolgirl  frenzies  of  letters  and  copied 
poems  and  exchanged  locks  of  hair,  —  all  that  re 
hearsal  of  love  with  which  young  women  so  seriously 
amuse  themselves,  but  which  so  often  cools  into  sin- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  175 

cere  and  lifelong  regard.  Roger  told  her,  frankly, 
that  he  was  sorry  for  her,  and  added  his  conviction 
of  her  potentiality.  Curious  that  this  topic  of  friend 
ship  is  so  especially  alluring  to  a  man  and  woman 
between  whom  friendship  is  impossible  ! 

After  that  their  discussion  turned  upon  the  ab 
stractions  of  truth  and  duty  and  conduct,  and  Roger 
Carey,  in  his  perfectly  straightforward  earnestness, 
fell  into  that  courteous  trap  of  "  you  and  I ;  "  "you 
and  I  think,"  or  "  feel,"  or  "  know  better." 

There  is  no  more  subtle  flattery  from  an  intelligent 
man  to  an  intelligent  woman  than  this  "  you  and  I ; " 
it  is  an  intellectual  caress,  and  the  mind  responds  to 
it  with  an  abandon  which  betrays  its  ethical  effect. 
Roger  was  too  interested  to  be  aware  of  anything 
more  than  an  added  brilliancy  in  his  companion's 
look,  an  added  force  in  her  words.  But  his  interest 
made  him  forget  that  Lyssie  would  be  back  from  her 
errand  to  the  upper  village  at  five.  Now,  realizing 
his  forgetfulness,  he  was  angry  at  himself,  with  that 
painful  anger  which  was  only  a  form  of  astonishment 
at  his  own  possibilities.  He  was  plainly  sulky  with 
Mrs.  Shore,  which  was  most  unjust,  for  Cecil, 
though  she  laughed  at  him  a  little,  was  really  sorry. 
"  I  never  thought  of  Lys,"  she  said  ;  "  it 's  too  bad  ! 
You  were  too  entertaining,  Mr.  Carey.  She  will 
never  forgive  — 

An  exclamation  from  Roger  made  her  turn,  and 
she  saw,  in  the  meadow  on  her  right,  Lyssie  and 
Molly,  and,  further  off,  her  husband  struggling  with 
a  drunken  man. 


XIV. 

To-day  it  is  our  pleasure  to  be  drunk. —  FIELDING. 

ALICIA,  it  appeared,  had  come  hurrying  back  from 
her  errand  to  the  upper  village,  and,  finding  no  Roger 
awaiting  her,  looked  half  puzzled  and  half  disturbed, 
until  Esther  told  her  that  she  had  seen  Mr.  Carey 
drive  by  with  "Miss  Cecil."  It  was  all  right,  if 
Roger  were  being  entertained  ;  but  before  she  had 
time  to  speculate  as  to  his  return  Philip  came  strid 
ing  up  the  path  and  into  the  hall. 

"  Lys  !  where  are  you?  "  he  called  out,  so  heartily 
that  she  knew,  as  she  ran  downstairs,  that  he  knew 
—  the  one  thing  in  the  world  worth  knowing ! 
"  Carey  wrote  me  about  it,"  he  said,  "  and  I  got  off 
the  stage  at  the  gate  to  come  in  and  tell  you  that 
he  's  a  good  fellow,  but  he  '11  have  to  do  his  best  to 
be  good  enough  for  you  ! 

"  Were  n't  you  very  much  surprised,  though, 
Philip  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  blush  all  over  her  happy 
face. 

"  Well,  no,  I  can't  say  that  I  was  very  much  sur 
prised,"  Philip  confessed,  greatly  amused. 

"  Oh,  were  n't  you  ?  I  was,"  Alicia  answered 
him,  shy  but  serious.  "  Oh,  Philip,  you  're  laugh 
ing  !" 

But  his  face  was  so  tender  that  Lyssie  forgave  the 
laugh.  Then  he  asked  where  Roger  was,  and,  learn- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  177 

ing,  had  a  suggestion  to  make.  "  Let 's  go  over  to 
East  Hill  and  look  at  the  mowers ;  you  can  watch 
the  street  from  there,  and  see  the  carriage  the  mo 
ment  it  appears." 

There  was  something  in  the  simple  way  in  which 
Philip  took  for  granted  the  impatient  and  pretty 
folly  of  a  lover  that  made  Alicia  full  of  happy  ease. 
He  had  not  that  laugh  in  the  eye  which  says,  "  Oh, 
it  is  sweet,  it  is  pretty  ;  but  you  'd  better  make  the 
most  of  it  while  it  lasts." 

"  I  '11  go  and  get  Molly,  and  join  you  there," 
Philip  said,  when  she  had  agreed  to  come  as  soon  as 
she  had  seen  whether  her  mother  was  quite  com 
fortable. 

But  it  takes  a  good  while  to  make  some  people 
comfortable.  Philip  had  been  in  the  field  ten  min 
utes  before  Alicia,  her  face  sobered,  arrived.  Mrs. 
Drayton  had  seized  the  opportunity  to  implant  an 
arrow  in  the  child's  tender  conscience,  by  speaking 
of  Alicia's  indecorous  haste  to  see  her  lover,  and  her 
selfish  indifference  to  her  mother's  loneliness. 

"  Here  I  sit  all  day  long,  and  you  never  think 
what  it  is  to  me  to  be  shut  out  from  society,"  she 
sighed.  "If  it  were  not  for  the  companionship  of 
my  blessed  Bible,  and  my  own  thoughts  of  how  I 
shall  be  recompensed  some  day  for  all  I  've  borne 
here,  I  don't  see  how  I  could  endure  it !  " 

"  Mother,  dear,  of  course  I  won't  go,  if  you  want 
me  to  stay,"  Alicia  protested. 

But  Mrs.  Drayton  shook  her  head.  "  I  want  you 
to  want  to  stay,  Lyssie.  I  don't  care  for  unwilling 


178  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

service.  Go,  go !  you  '11  be  late."  Then  she  drew 
in  her  breath  in  a  meek  sob.  "  Perhaps,  though, 
you  will  be  willing  to  wait  one  moment,  if  it 's  some 
thing  for  yourself  ?  I  want  to  pin  this  rose  in  your 
hair.  Kneel  down." 

Alicia,  with  a  little  sigh,  knelt,  and  her  mother 
put  the  rose  against  the  soft  coil  of  hair  behind  her 
ear.  Mrs.  Drayton  did  not  declare  that  she  was  re 
turning  good  for  evil ;  but  Lyssie  felt  the  scorch  of 
coals  of  fire,  as  her  mother  intended  she  should.  In 
deed,  as  an  expression  of  pure  malice,  the  heaping 
of  coals  of  fire  may  be  as  telling  as  a  blow;  poor 
Lyssie,  feeling,  as  she  walked  over  to  the  meadow, 
the  soft  touch  of  the  rose  upon  her  neck,  heard  those 
words  about  loneliness  ringing  in  her  ears,  and  asked 
herself  again,  with  dismay,  "  What  will  she  do 
when  — 

The  grass  on  the  long  slope  of  East  Hill  had  been 
cut  and  stacked  into  cocks  some  days  before,  but  in 
the  level  light  the  stubbly  floor  of  the  field,  barred 
by  long  shadows  from  the  buttonwood-trees  that 
edged  its  western  side,  looked  smooth  and  soft. 
There  was  the  scent  of  new  hay  in  the  air  ;  and  the 
whole  stretch  of  the  valley,  clasped  by  the  far-off 
curve  of  the  river,  lay  like  a  green  cup,  brimmed 
with  warm  and  silent  peace.  Going  from  one  small 
haymow  to  another  was  a  cart  drawn  by  two  white 
steers  ;  three  men  were  loading  it,  and  a  woman, 
who  had  climbed  into  it,  was  forking  and  trampling 
the  hay  into  place,  her  strong  young  figure  standing 
out  clear  against  the  ochre  glow  of  the  sunset. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  179 

Alicia  perceived  with,  amusement  that  one  of  the 
men  was  her  brother-in-law  ;  and  then  she  caught 
sight  of  Molly,  curled  up  against  a  little  haystack, 
plaiting  three  stalks  of  grass  to  make  a  ring.  Molly 
welcomed  her  eagerly. 

"  Aunt  Lyssie,  shall  I  have  to  say  '  uncle  Boger  ' 
to  Mr.  Carey  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Oh,  Molly,  hush,  you  little  goose  !  "  said  Lyssie, 
her  face  full  of  charming  color.  "Look  at  your 
father  making  hay ;  and  isn't  that  Eliza  Todd,  rak 
ing,  on  the  other  side  of  the  cart  ?  " 

"  I  saw  father  long  ago,"  Molly  announced.  "  Is  n't 
it  funny  for  father  to  work  when  he  does  n't  have 
to  ?  He  did  it  once  before,  all  day.  Mamma  said 
he  was  singular.  What 's  '  singular,'  aunt  Lyssie  ?  " 

"  What  you  are  when  you  are  remarkably  good," 
Alicia  said  significantly. 

Molly  did  not  pursue  the  subject.  She  returned 
to  braiding  her  bits  of  grass,  and  sang  a  strange 
rune  to  herself,  something  after  this  fashion  :  — 

"  Minnows,  minnows,  minnows, 
Live  in  water, 
Wriggling, 
Wriggling. 

The  sun  shines  on  'em  in  the  water. 
They  wriggle, 
Up  the  stream. 

Where  the  sun  shines  in  the  water, 
The  spotted  minnows  wriggle." 

Alicia  laughed  under  her  breath,  and  motioned  to 
Philip,  who  had  joined  her,  to  listen.  They  looked 
at  each  other,  smiling.  Philip,  fanning  himself  with 


180  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

his  hat,  waited  until  Molly's  song  sank  into  a  whisper, 
and  then  said :  — 

"  The  epic  is  in  us  all,  is  n't  it  ?  Have  you  been 
here  long,  Lys  ?  Oh,  Lyssie,  this  is  the  way  to  live ! 
It  is  splendidly  material,  and  a  man  takes  to  it  so 
that  I  begin  to  think  the  other  side  of  us  is  abnor 
mal,  the  soul  is  an  excrescence.  Yes,  I  'd  like  to 
make  hay  or  dig  potatoes." 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  work!  "  Molly  announced, 
coming  to  clamber  over  her  father,  and  then  settling 
comfortably  down  in  his  arms.  "  I  'd  rather  play. 
Mamma  said  you  were  '  singular  '  to  work,  father. 
Mamma  said  — 

"  Philip,"  Alicia  broke  in,  with  all  the  haste  of 
embarrassment,  "  did  Mr.  Miller's  work  satisfy  the 
judges?" 

"  No ;  I  'm  sorry,  but  it  does  n't  warrant  any 
further  encouragement." 

"  Cecil  said,  if  it  did  n't,  she  was  going  to  send 
him  some  money,"  Lyssie  said.  "  She  's  awfully 
generous,  is  n't  she  ?  " 

"  She  enjoys  giving,  I  think,"  Philip  answered 
briefly,  and  added,  irrelevantly,  that  he  thought  the 
haymakers  had  a  pretty  good  time.  "  Oh,  see  that 
attitude  !  "  he  interrupted  himself,  sitting  up  straight, 
and  putting  on  his  glasses  to  look  at  the  woman  in 
the  cart.  She  was  standing,  her  weight  on  her  left 
hip,  her  face  crimsoning  with  exertion,  the  muscles 
of  her  arms,  as  she  raised  a  forkful  of  hay  and  leaned 
backwards  to  balance  it,  lifting  into  swelling  curves. 
The  hay  in  its  place  and  trodden  down,  she  stopped 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  181 

to  draw  a  full  breath,  and  with  her  bare  oent  arm 
brush  back  the  hair  that  had  fallen  across  her  hot 
face.  Even  at  this  distance  Alicia  could  see  her 
splendid  vigor.  There  was  a  certain  superb  well- 
being  about  her,  as  absolutely  material  as  the  warm 
scent  of  the  grass,  or  the  stretch  of  shadows  over 
the  clean  field,  or  the  faded  colors  in  the  stubble. 
Standing  there  knee-deep  in  the  hay,  flecking  the 
sweat  from  her  forehead  with  an  impatient  finger, 
she  seemed  as  organic  and  unconscious  as  the  rocks 
and  trees.  Philip,  watching  her,  said  again  whim 
sically,  "  Yes,  yes,  it 's  better  so  ;  she  is  n't  going  to 
tear  her  soul  for  any  mere  ideals  !  " 

A  sense  of  spiritual  weariness  came  upon  him ;  a 
longing  for  that  life  which  is  as  far  ,£rom  sin  as  it  is 
from  virtue,  —  the  life  of  some  men  and  women,  and 
of  the  beasts  that  perish. 

Molly,  who  had  trotted  off  to  pick  a  flower,  came 
running  back  out  of  the  sunset  with  two  red  lilies, 
which  she  presented,  in  solemn  childish  fashion,  to 
her  father  and  aunt.  "  There  's  a  man  over  there," 
she  said,  —  "  I  guess  his  legs  are  sick  ;  they  wabble. 
Look,  father." 

"  Oh,  I  fear  his  legs  are  sick,"  Philip  agreed. 
"Poor  Job!  Lyssie,  suppose  you  go  along  with 
Molly.  I  'm  afraid  he  may  be  conversational." 

"  Oh,  Philip,  is  n't  he  a  little  —  " 

"  A  little ! "  said  Philip,  as  he  caught  Job's 
raised  and  stammering  voice.  "  I  should  say  so. 
Go,  dear,  go  !  "  Then  he  picked  himself  up  lazily, 
and  brushed  the  hay  from  his  coat,  and  lounged 


182  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

down  to  the  other  side  of  the  field,  where  he  stood, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  observing  the  situation. 
Cecil's  carriage  had  just  come  in  sight,  but  his  back 
was  toward  the  road,  and  he  did  not  see  it. 

Job  Todd  was  not  an  attractive  object;  he  was 
drunk,  but,  unfortunately,  not  quite  drunk  enough 
to  have  passed  the  ugly  stage.  His  poor  brute  face 
was  dully  purple,  his  small,  cunning  eyes  swam  in 
stagnant  film,  and  his  loose  lips  moved  in  thick, 
stumbling  words.  * 

"  Where  is  that  damned  woman  o'  mine  ?  "  he 
demanded,  putting  his  legs  wide  apart,  to  stand  more 
steadily. 

"  Oh,  Job  !  "  quavered  Eliza. 

The  girl  who  was  forking  the  hay  into  place 
stopped  and  peered  over  at  the  scene,  and  the  two 
men  drew  together,  and  said  pacifically,  "  There, 
now,  Job." 

"  Job,  don't !  Oh !  "  Eliza  cried  out,  writhing 
away  from  the  heavy  hand  he  laid  on  her  shoulder. 

"  You  come  home.  You  get  my  supper.  I  '11 
break  your  damned  head  if  you  don't  tend  up  to 
your  business." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  come,  I  '11  come,"  she  said  tremulously, 
dropping  her  wooden  rake,  and  walking  along  a 
little  in  front  of  him. 

Philip  walked  in  the  same  direction.  "  Hullo, 
Job,"  he  said  good  naturedly.  "  Don't  you  think 
you  'd  better  let  Mrs.  Todd  go  on  with  her  work  ?  " 

But  Job,  with  vast  contempt,  refused  to  notice 
Mr.  Shore's  remark ;  he  stooped  to  pick  up  Eliza's 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  183 

discarded  rake,  and  brandished  it  in  the  air,  catching 
himself  with  a  jerk  as  he  lurched  forward. 

44  The  old  woman,"  he  called  out  to  the  group 
about  the  cart,  "  is  — "  Job's  drunken  fluency  in 
regard  to  his  wife  made  some  one  laugh,  and  the 
man,  instantly  infuriated,  turned  upon  her  and 
struck  her,  and  then  staggered  and  fell,  tripped  up 
neatly  by  Philip  Shore's  outstretched  foot. 

"  Don't,  sir  !  "  the  two  mowers  called  out.  u  He 
ain't  safe,  Mr.  Shore  ;  don't  meddle  with  him,  sir  !  " 

The  shock  made  Job  sober  for  an  instant ;  he  got 
on  his  legs  with  surprising  quickness.  "  You  want 
to  fight,  do  you,"  he  said,  "  you  "  —  and  added  a 
string  of  epithets  which  made  Philip  laugh  in  spite 
of  himself. 

"  What  command  of  language  you  have,  Todd  ! 
No,  I  'm  not  anxious  to  fight.  Come,  now,  behave 
yourself.  Don't  be  a  fool." 

"  Whose  wife  is  she  ?  "  roared  Job.  "  I  'm  boss 
in  my  house.  It  's  more  'an  you  are  in  yours,  and 
for  a  good  reason  :  your  wife  's  worth  two  of  you ! 
But  I  keep  my  woman  in  order.  Do  you  see  that  ?  " 
and  he  made  a  lunge  at  Eliza,  who  ducked  and 
whimpered. 

"I  '11  knock  you  down  if  you  do  that  again,"  said 
Philip  pleasantly,  walking  between  Job  and  his 
wife. 

"  Ye  wiU?     Look  a'  there,  then  !  " 

A  flame  leaped  to  Philip's  eyes.  The  men,  calling 
wildly  to  him  to  "  come  off,"  to  "  stop  it,"  saw  him 
strip  off  his  coat,  and,  holding  up  his  left  arm  to 


184  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

guard  his  head  from  Job's  rake,  plant  a  blow  under 
the  drunken  man's  ear ;  and  then  there  was  an  in 
stant  of  really  sharp  struggle,  until  Philip's  arm 
hooked  about  Job's  neck  and  his  right  hand  caught 
him  under  the  chin.  Todd  roared  and  kicked  for  a 
moment,  until  Philip  flung  him  on  the  ground. 

"  Do  you  want  some  more  ?  The  next  time  you 
strike  a  woman  I  '11  give  you  some  more !  "  he  said, 
breathless,  touching  him  contemptuously  with  his 
foot. 

Roger  Carey,  who  had  come  running  down  the 
field,  had  just  reached  him,  disappointment  in  every 
feature. 

"  You  've  had  it  all  to  yourself !  "  lie  cried  regret 
fully,  and  then  gave  Job  a  hand  and  pulled  him  to 
his  feet.  "  Have  you  been  bullyragging  Mrs.  Todd, 
you  brute  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  wish  I  'd  been  here  in 
time  to  get  a  hand  in." 

As  for  Cecil  Shore,  after  her  first  instant  of  quick 
admiration  for  her  husband  standing  there  in  his 
shirt  sleeves,  his  clenched  hand  drawn  back  as 
though  his  very  fingers  were  tingling  with  desire  to 
leap  at  Job's  throat,  she  thought  of  the  man's  morti 
fication  should  he  realize  that  she  had  witnessed  his 
humiliation,  and  gave  the  order  to  drive  on.  "  But 
Philip  really  did  that  well !  "  she  said  to  herself, 
smiling.  Then  her  face  darkened,  and  she  sighed ; 
her  vague  dissatisfaction  with  Lyssie's  engagement, 
or  rather  with  Roger  Carey's  engagement,  came 
back.  She  was  half  sullen  and  quite  absorbed  that 
evening,  as  poor  little  Molly  learned  to  her  cost. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  185 

She  came  dancing  into  her  mother's  room  while 
Cecil  was  dressing  for  dinner,  and  was  kissed  and 
cuddled  to  her  heart's  content,  until  Cecil  pushed 
her  away  gently,  and  said,  "  Don't  bother  me,  pre 
cious  ;  mamma  must  dress.  There  !  you  can  play 
with  mamma's  rings,  if  you  want  to." 

Molly,  enchanted,  seized  the  small  satin-lined  box, 
and  shook  the  rings  into  her  lap  in  a  shower  of 
light.  How  beautiful  they  were,  piled  stiff  upon 
her  little  fingers  until  she  could  not  shut  her  hands ! 
Then  the  charming  thought  occurred  to  her  that  she 
would  string  them  all  on  a  stalk  of  grass,  and  hang 
them  around  her  mamma's  lovely  neck.  The  very 
joyousness  of  the  plan  kept  her  silent,  and,  gather 
ing  up  the  front  of  her  dress  to  hold  all  this  glitter 
and  gleam,  she  crept  out  of  the  room. 

Cecil  did  not  notice  her  absence.  She  forgot  the 
child  and  the  rings  too,  until  she  heard  a  wail  from 
the  garden,  down  below  the  terrace.  Of  course  the 
inevitable  accident  had  happened.  A  moment  later 
Rosa  brought  Molly  to  her  mother,  and  the  little 
girl,  catching  her  breath  with  fright,  tried  to  explain 
that  the  stalk  of  grass  had  broken,  "  and  —  and  the 
rings  —  spilt !  "  In  fact,  three  of  them  had  leaped 
as  though  from  a  sling  out  into  the  pool.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  smouldering  irritation  of  Cecil's  thoughts 
sprang  into  flame. 

"  You  naughty  little  thing  I  "  she  cried.  "  How 
dare  you  take  my  rings  out  of  doors  ?  "  And  while 
her  lips  were  still  set  with  anger  she  punished  the 
child,  who  screamed  with  pain  and  terror,  and  then 


186  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

pushed  her  toward  Rosa.  "  Just  put  her  right 
straight  to  bed,  Rosa.  Don't  speak  another  word, 
Molly,  or  I  '11  spank  you,  you  wicked  little  girl ! 
Rosa,  send  John  down  to  the  pool  at  once.  Tell 
him  he  must  find  the  rings  to-night.  Which  are 
they  ?  Oh,  Molly,  you  horrid  child  !  Rosa,  my  sap 
phire  has  gone  !  The  other  two  are  not  so  important. 
But  John  must  find  them  to-night,  somehow." 


XV. 

And  yet  she  was  a  happy  woman,  and  a  woman  whom  no  one 
named  without  good  will.  It  was  her  own  universal  good  will  and 
contented  temper  that  worked  such  wonders.  She  loved  everybody, 
was  interested  in  everybody's  happiness,  and  quicksighted  to  every 
body's  merits.  —  JANE  AUSTEN. 

OF  course  the  tussle  in  the  hayfield  was  discussed 
in  Old  Chester,  and  it  brought  up  the  question  of 
Eliza's  possible  danger  in  remaining  with  Job.  Her 
possible  degradation  had  been  long  ago  dismissed,  or 
never  thought  of.  The  economic  propriety  of  pla 
cing  upon  the  community  the  burden  of  supporting 
Job's  neglected  but  increasing  family  had  been 
pointed  out  only  by  innocent,  straightforward,  sen 
sible  Lyssie.  The  indignity  done  to  marriage  by 
urging  the  continuance  of  a  relation  from  which  love 
and  respect  and  tenderness  had  fled,  leaving  in  their 
place  brutality  and  lust,  had  never  been  considered. 
But  when  it  came  to  the  chance  of  physical  injury  to 
Eliza,  then  indeed  Old  Chester  was  aroused  and  per 
plexed. 

"  Perhaps  we  ought  to  tell  her  to  leave  him  ? " 
said  Miss  Susan,  worried  and  anxious.  "  Maybe,  if 
she  left  him,  he  would  really  turn  over  a  new  leaf 
for  the  mere  discomfort  of  it ;  but  to  separate  hus 
band  and  wife ! " 

Miss  Susan  Carr  sat  in  front  of  her  writing-desk, 
thinking  what  had  best  be  done.  It  would  be  no  use 


188  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

to  ask  Dr.  Lavendar  ;  lie  would  say  that  Eliza  must 
stick  to  her  duty,  even  if  Job  cut  her  throat  some 
fine  day  while  he  was  drunk.  Mrs.  Dale  took  this 
view  too ;  and  these  two  people  certainly  ought  to 
know.  Dr.  Lavendar  had  had  so  much  experience, 
and  as  for  Mrs.  Dale  —  well,  everybody  knew  poor 
Eben  Dale's  failings.  But  Susan  Carr's  first,  sim 
ple,  unecclesiastical,  common-sense  impulse  was  to  say 
that  Job  and  Eliza  had  no  business  to  live  together. 

o 

Miss  Susan,  in  her  swivel  chair,  staring  absently 
at  the  cluttered  pigeon-holes  of  her  desk,  her  heels 
stretched  straight  out  in  front  of  her,  her  hands 
thrust  down  into  the  pockets  of  her  short  sack, 
pushed  out  her  lips  in  puzzled  and  troubled  reflec 
tion.  But  suddenly,  catching  sight  of  the  corner  of 
a  letter,  she  winced,  and  drew  herself  together,  and 
thrust  back  into  the  half-open  little  drawer  the  en 
velope  which  held  Mr.  Joseph  Lavendar's  proposal. 

So  far,  Miss  Carr  had  succeeded  in  "  staving  him 
off,"  as  she  expressed  it.  No  doubt  her  firm  words 
to  Dr.  Lavendar  had  helped  her  good  work,  for  of 
course  the  disappointed  older  brother  must  have  told 
Joseph  that  there  was  no  hope  for  him ;  but  her 
own  efforts  had  been  unceasing.  As  this  crumpled 
corner  of  his  letter  brought  him  swiftly  to  her  mind, 
she  congratulated  herself  upon  her  success  in  pre 
venting  the  declaration  which  would  have  resulted  in 
his  mortification ;  but,  glad  as  she  was  for  his  sake, 
she  could  not  help  a  little  pang  on  her  own  account. 
It  is  hard  to  lose  a  friend  just  because  one  has  acted 
from  a  sense  of  duty.  Susan  Carr  had  in  all  honesty 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  189 

done  the  kindest  thing  she  knew ;  but  in  conse 
quence  Joseph  Lavendar  treated  her  with  unmistak 
able  coldness  and  offense.  In  fact,  it  appeared  that 
he  had  taken  the  hint  she  had  tried  to  give  him  ; 
and  now,  with  an  unreasonableness  most  admirably 
feminine,  Miss  Susan  was  conscious  of  feeling,  as 
Mrs.  Drayton  would  have  said,  ua  little  bitter." 

"  He  would  have  had  no  cause  to  be  unfriendly 
even  if  I  had  refused  him,  instead  of  just  keeping 
him  from  speaking,"  she  reflected,  with  some  spirit ; 
"  and  I  will  be  his  friend,  I  don't  care  how  angry 
he  is !  "  She  did  not  add,  as  she  had  often  done 
before,  that  he  had  been  Donald's  friend,  and  so  of 
course  must  be  hers ;  for  once  she  forgot  the  sweet, 
faded  romance,  which  lay  between  her  youth  and 
her  middle  age  like  a  rose  pressed  between  the 
pages  of  a  book.  She  sat  there  in  her  revolving 
chair,  looking  at  the  confusion  of  her  desk,  and 
wishing  that  at  least  Joseph  Lavendar  knew  how 
heartily  she  respected  and  liked  him,  notwithstanding 
what  she  had  done.  Well,  unjust  as  he  might  be, 
it  was  a  comfort  to  see  with  what  friendliness  his 
brother  treated  her.  Dr.  Lavendar  showed  no  re 
sentment  ;  only  a  troubled  gentleness,  "  as  though," 
said  Miss  Susan  to  herself,  "  he  realized  just  how 
hopeless  it  was."  She  reproached  herself  for  not 
making  more  of  this  comfort.  "  I  ought  not  to  be 
unhappy,"  she  thought.  "  I  've  done  my  duty,  and 
I  'm  sure  that  ought  to  be  enough  of  a  consolation." 
But  she  sighed  deeply. 

Miss  Susan  was  quite  right  about  Dr.  Lavendar's 


190  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

friendliness.  He  made  a  point  of  seeing  her  oftener 
than  before  ;  and  although  he  never  spoke  to  her  of 
Joseph,  the  whole  melancholy  situation  was  continu 
ally  in  his  thoughts.  At  first  he  had  been  quite 
overwhelmed  by  it  and  altogether  hopeless,  and,  with 
an  injustice  as  natural  as  it  was  deplorable,  more 
bitter  than  ever  toward  "  the  Peiidleton  woman,"  as 
he  called  her  in  his  own  mind. 

Indeed,  when  Mr.  Joseph,  conscious  and  uncom 
fortable,  h^d  followed  his  letter  down  to  Old  Ches 
ter,  his  brother  had  been  so  unmistakably  cold  to 
him  that  poor  Joey  felt  all  his  courage  ooze  away ; 
consequently,  that  week  Mrs.  Pendleton's  affections 
did  not  become  engaged.  But  Dr.  Lavendar  had 
not  breathed  freely  until  he  saw  the  coach  roll  off  on 
Monday  morning.  "  Well,  he  's  safe  for  five  days  !  " 
he  said.  Then  his  mind  went  back  to  the  estimable 
Miss  Susan ;  and  by  and  by,  in  spite  of  himself,  he 
began  to  hope.  "  If  Joey  can  just  be  made  to  ap 
preciate  Utile  Dulci !  "  he  thought ;  and  he  decided 
to  try  to  make  Joey  appreciative.  Now  Dr.  Laven 
dar  was  a  wise  man,  and  therefore  he  was  aware 
that  the  effort  to  induce  one  person  to  care  for  an 
other  person  is  generally  as  successful  as  the  effort 
to  make  water  run  uphill.  If  he  had  wanted  any 
proof  of  this  axiom,  there  was  Mr.  Joseph's  own  en 
deavor  in  behalf  of  himself  and  Mrs.  Pendleton. 
Mere  insistence,  Dr.  Lavendar  knew,  was  not  only 
useless ;  it  was  almost  prohibitive  of  the  result  de 
sired.  "  So,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar  in  his  own  mind, 
"  I  must  be  subtle  !  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  191 

The  next  Saturday,  when  Joseph  came  home,  he 
found  his  brother  in  quite  a  different  mood  from 
that  which  had  made  his  previous  visit  so  melan 
choly.  Dr.  Lavendar  was  eager  to  tell  him  about 
Lyssie's  engagement ;  he  had  much  to  say  of  the 
way  in  which  Philip  had  thrashed  Job  Todd;  he 
was  full  of  the  new  chapter  in  The  History  of  Pre 
cious  Stones  ;  in  fact,  he  spoke  of  anything  and 
everything  but  the  old  bitter  subject.  And  through 
all  his  conversation  singularly  irrelevant  remarks 
about  Utile  Dulci  came  in,  like  the  chorus  of  a 
Greek  play.  As  for  Mr.  Joseph,  while  he  was  in 
terested  to  learn  of  Lyssie's  happiness,  and  was 
sorry  about  Job,  and  listened  to  Miss  Susan's 
praises  respectfully,  he  had  his  own  business  to 
attend  to. 

"  Brother  Jim,"  he  said,  as  they  sat  at  the  tea 
table  that  night,  and  there  came  a  moment's  pause 
in  Dr.  Lavendar's  excited  flow  of  conversation, 
"brother  Jim,  it  seems  only  proper  to  say  to  you 
that  I  mean  to  —  to  —  to  do  it  to-night." 

"  Do  what  ?  " 

"  Request  the  honor  of  — 

"  Oh,  Joey,  Joey,  what  a  fool  you  are  !  "  groaned 
the  old  clergyman.  He  pushed  his  chair  back  a 
little,  and  beat  a  tremulous  tattoo  on  the  table  with 
his  shaking  fingers.  In  a  moment  all  his  assumed 
interest  in  other  things  disappeared ;  it  was  not  a 
time  for  subtlety,  but  for  action.  "  Joey,  of  course 
I  'd  never  think  of  betraying  the  affairs  of  any  of  my 
parishioners  to  any  one  else,  even  to  you,  but — I 


192  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

—  the  fact  is  —  why  don't  you  go  and  see  Miss 
Susan  ?  " 

"  Miss  Susan  ?  "  said  Joseph  Lavendar.  "  Why 
should  I  ?  She  is  no  more  in  sympathy  with  my 
views  than  —  than  you  are,  brother  Jim,"  he  ended 
sadly. 

Dr.  Lavendar,  pouring  out  another  cup  of  tea  for 
himself,  his  fingers  gripping  the  teapot  handle  till  his 
knuckles  were  white,  swallowed  twice,  and  said, 
"  Joey,  you  make  me  seem  impatient ;  but  not  at  all, 
not  at  all.  I  am  merely  —  ah  —  infuriated  by  your 
folly  ! :  Here  he  noticed  his  overflowing  cup,  and 
put  the  teapot  down.  He  was  trembling. 

Joseph  rose  silently,  and  wiped  up  the  tea  from  the 
table. 

"  If  you  speak  to  this  —  lady,  that  implies,  I  sup 
pose,  marriage  ?  "  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  his  voice  husky 
with  fear.  "•  But  it  occurs  to  me  to  ask  you  whether 
you  know  that  if  she  marries  she  must  relinquish  her 
fortune  ?  " 

Joseph  was  silent,  but  his  face  changed. 

"  It  is  asking  a  good  deal  of  a  lady  to  request  her 
to  relinquish  her  fortune,"  Dr.  Lavendar  proceeded 
breathlessly. 

" 1  did  not  know  that,"  Mr.  Joseph  said,  in  a  low 
voice.  "  At  least,  I  may  have  heard  it,  but  I  had 
forgotten  it." 

The  two  brothers  looked  at  each  other,  and  neither 
spoke.  Dr.  Lavendar  had  played  his  highest  card  ; 
he  hardly  dared  to  speak,  lest  he  should  undo  any 
good  which  that  appeal  to  Joseph's  chivalry  might 


PHIUP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  193 

have  accomplished.  The  little  dining-room  was  not 
very  light,  and  the  bare  dark  top  of  the  table  between 
the  brothers  made  it  seem  still  more  sombre.  Dr. 
Lavendar  poured  out  another  cup  of  tea,  and  drank 
it  defiantly.  Mr.  Joseph  got  up,  and  stood  at  the 
window.  "  It  looks  a  little  like  rain,"  he  observed. 

"  That  —  that  will  be  good  for  Susan  Carr's 
farm !  "  Dr.  Lavendar  exclaimed,  breathing  hard. 

Joseph  made  no  reply. 

"  Susan  is  a  very  superior  woman,  Joey,  don't  you 
think  so  ?  " 

"  Very  superior,"  Mr.  Joseph  agreed  listlessly. 
There  was  a  look  of  pained  bewilderment  in  his 
large,  mild  eyes.  Dr.  Lavendar  could  almost  have 
wept  for  his  brother's  lack  of  intelligence,  and  for 
his  good  Susan's  disappointment. 

So  Joseph  did  not  "  do  it  "  that  night.  He  lit 
the  lamp  in  the  library,  and  pretended  to  read.  He 
must  not  give  in  to  James  !  It  would  be  dishonor 
able,  and  a  slight  to  the  lady,  if  his  kindliness  of  word 
and  manner  were  not  followed  by  a  declaration ; 
unless,  indeed,  this  hint  about  the  money  and  the 
will  should  be  true  ?  In  which  case  Mr.  Joseph 
would  rather  suffer  the  imputation  of  dishonorable 
conduct  than  request  a  lady  to  make  a  sacrifice  for 
his  sake.  Dr.  Lavendar  had  judged  his  brother  well 
when  he  used  that  argument.  Poor  Mr.  Joseph  was 
very  miserable  ;  he  said  to  himself  that  he  hoped  Jim 
was  mistaken.  Who  would  know?  He  thought 
immediately  of  Susan  Carr.  He  could  ask  her  help 
again. 


194  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

u  She  is  kind,"  he  said  to  himself,  —  "  though  she 
has  seemed  a  little  unfriendly  of  late  about  this. 
But  Miss  Susan  has  certainly  a  kind  heart."  And 
so,  on  Sunday  evening,  after  supper,  —  which  was 
dull  enough,  with  the  constraint  and  pain  between 
the  brothers,  —  Mr.  Joseph  said  he  was  going  to 
consult  Miss  Susan  about  a  voluntary. 

"Well,  he's  safe  for  to-night,"  Dr.  Lavendar 
thought.  "  But  poor  Susan  !  poor  Susan  !  "  He 
walked  to  the  gate  with  Joseph,  struggling  to  find 
some  word  to  say  about  her  and  for  her  ;  but  nothing 
came  except  his  rather  purposeless  insistence  upon 
the  fact  that  Utile  Dulci  was  an  intelligent  person ; 
"  most  intelligent,  Joey.  Of  course  I  can't  talk 
about  other  people's  affairs,  but  —  but  —  give  her 
my  love,  Joey ;  give  Utile  Dulci  my  love,  boy,  do 
you  hear  ?  " 

Miss  Susan  was  sitting  by  her  round  centre  table, 
her  feet  on  a  high  footstool,  her  elbows  propped  on 
the  arms  of  her  chair  ;  she  was  holding  a  large  book 
close  to  her  eyes.  She  had,  for  the  moment,  for 
gotten  her  anxieties  about  Joseph  Lavendar  in  fol 
lowing  Smith's  directions  for  ploughing  under  a 
potato  field  to  supply  the  soil  with  humic  acid.  Miss 
Susan,  presenting  the  soles  of  stout  boots  to  the 
caller,  and  frowning  with  interest,  did  not  invite 
any  tender  confidences  ;  still  less  so  when,  hearing 
Mr.  Lavendar's  voice,  she  dropped  her  book,  and, 
with  an  awkward  clatter,  pushed  away  her  footstool, 
and  stood  up,  red  and  embarrassed,  and  almost 
angry. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  195 

Mr.  Joseph  steadied  the  tottering  footstool,  and 
picked  np  a  newspaper  that  had  slipped  rustling  to 
the  floor,  and  made  his  apologies  for  having  startled 
his  hostess. 

"  We  men  are  apt  to  forget  the  timidity  of  the 
gentler  sex." 

"  I  'm  not  timid,"  Susan  Carr  said  decidedly. 

But  Mr.  Joseph  would  not  listen  to  such  self- 
depreciation.  "  Oh,  come,  come,  Miss  Susan,  there 
is  nothing  more  engaging  in  a  lady." 

"Well,"  Miss  Carr  retorted,  her  self-possession 
returning,  and  struggling  to  defend  herself  and  him 
from  the  inevitable  moment  which  she  felt  was 
approaching,  "  well,  you  ought  to  admire  my  neigh 
bor,  then ;  she,  poor  little  soul,  is  afraid  of  a  cater 
pillar  !  " 

"  Is  she,  indeed  ?  Is  she,  indeed  ?  Yes,  I  have 
noticed  it  in  her,  —  very  pleasing ;  yes."  He  sat 
down,  his  hands  on  his  neat  brown  broadcloth  knees, 
his  face  a  little  wistful  and  anxious.  "  I  suppose 
you  see  a  good  deal  of  your  neighbor  ?  Your  life 
must  be  quite  lonely,  and  she  doubtless  enlivens  it, 
and  —  " 

"  Not  lonely  at  all,"  interposed  Miss  Susan,  the 
color  mounting  to  her  face ;  "  and  anyhow,  the  poor 
little  lady  is  really  so  —  I  don't  want  to  be  un 
kind,"  cried  Susan  Carr,  scarcely  knowing  what  she 
said,  but  willing  to  hide  behind  Mrs.  Pendleton  for 
protection  —  "  she  is  so  silly,  you  know.  I  'm  sure 
I  should  rather  be  alone  than  talk  to  Mrs.  Pendle 
ton  !  "  There  was  no  malice  in  this  attack,  only  she 


196  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

must  keep  Mr.  Lavendar  silent.  She  wondered  if 
she  might  not  introduce  the  subject  of  soil  dressing? 
"  Yes,"  she  said  desperately,  "  I  am  not  lonely. 
Since  Donald's  death  I  have  grown  used  to  spending 
my  evenings  with  my  books.  I  was  just  reading  to 
night  —  " 

Mr.  Lavendar  let  her  talk  on  ;  when  she  had  fin 
ished  her  excited  resume  of  Smith's  admirable  work, 
he  said,  resignedly,  that  he  did  not  know  much  about 
farming ;  he  remembered  that  Donald  had  been  very 
wise  in  matters  of  that  kind.  He  spoke  absently 
and  rather  sadly  ;  and  Miss  Susan  felt  that  her  des 
perate  reference  to  her  dead  lover  had  saved  her. 
And  so,  although  it  hurt  her  curiously,  she  spoke 
again  of  Donald.  It  seemed  to  Susan  Carr,  as  she 
tried  to  shelter  herself  under  his  name,  that  he  had 
never  been  so  far  removed,  so  truly  dead.  Far  off, 
with  dismay  and  pain,  she  saw  a  strange  moment  ap 
proaching,  —  a  moment  when  she  must  acknowledge 
that  her  grief  for  Donald  was  dead. 

Joseph  Lavendar  did  not  return  to  her  loneliness ; 
he  only  asked  her,  in  a  constrained  way,  did  she  see 
much  of  Mrs.  Pendleton  ?  And  by  the  bye,  did  Miss 
Susan  know  whether  it  was  true,  this  gossip  that  one 
heard  about  tfee  will  of  the  late  Mr.  Pendleton? 
Mr.  Lavendar  thought  it  a  most  unjust  will  for  any 
man  to  make  ;  for  his  part,  he  believed  that  a  lady's 
affections  could  be  engaged  a  second  time  —  did  not 
Miss  Susan  think  so  ?  —  without  disloyalty  to  their 
first  object. 

"  Indeed  I  dorft"  she  said  emphatically,  "  indeed 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  197 

I  don't !  The  will  ?  Well,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know. 
I  've  heard  so,  but  of  course  one  can't  tell  certainly. 
Perhaps  not.  But  I  'm  sure  it  does  n't  need  a  will 
to  keep  one  faithful !  " 

She  was  so  flurried  that  Joseph  L/avendar  looked 
at  her  in  bewilderment.  "  You  appear  to  find  this 
subject  displeasing,"  he  said  mildly.  "  I  did  not 
mean  — 

"  Oh,"  stammered  Susan  Carr,  "  I  don't  want  to 
seem  unkind,  but  don't  —  don't !  Mr.  Joseph,  I 
can't  let  you.  Please  never  speak  of  it,  never !  " 

Mr.  Lavendar  rose ;  the  color  came  into  his  face, 
—  even  his  high  bald  forehead  was  faintly  mottled 
with  red ;  he  opened  his  lips  twice  before  he  said, 
"  Certainly  not ;  certainly  not !  I  beg  your  pardon, 
ma'am." 

A  moment  later  he  bade  her  good-night,  and,  with 
pursed-up  lips,  bowed  himself  stiffly  out  of  the  room. 

As  he  went  home,  he  hardly  remembered  to  con 
gratulate  himself  upon  the  fact  that  there  was  at 
least  some  uncertainty  about  the  testament  of  the 
late  Mr.  Pendleton,  so  dumfounded  and  nearly  angry 
was  he  at  Miss  Susan. 

"  And  she  used  to  be  so  intelligent !  "  he  thought, 
almost  as  Dr.  Lavendar  might  have  done. 

As  for  Susan  Carr,  when  he  had  left  her,  she  put 
her  head  down  on  the  open  pages  of  the  book  upon 
subsoils  and  cried  heartily.  "  And  I  like  him  so 
much,"  she  said,  again  and  again,  "  and  now  he  is 
dreadfully  offended !  " 

She  was  more  worn  out  by  the  excitement  of  this 


198  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

fencing  with  her  old  friend  than  she  would  have 
been  by  a  day's  tramp  over  her  farm.  After  a 
while  she  dried  her  eyes,  and  looked  about  the  silent 
room.  Yes,  it  was  lonely ;  Joseph  was  right.  She 
got  up,  and,  with  her  hands  clasped  behind  her, 
walked  up  and  down ;  once  she  stopped  before  Don 
ald's  picture.  "  It  has  been  lonely,"  she  said,  star 
ing  hard  at  the  faded  photograph;  uyes,  it  has, 
Donald!" 

She  did  not  sleep  well  that  night ;  the  sense  of 
the  solitude  of  her  life  was  heavy  upon  her.  Even 
the  next  morning  she  stopped  once  in  her  busy  work 
about  the  garden,  to  sit  down  on  the  upper  step  of 
the  porch  and  think  about  her  loneliness  ;  her  cheery 
face  grew  dull,  and  showed  a  hint  of  age  about  the 
lips. 

"  And  now,  I  suppose,  I  shall  even  lose  the  inter 
est  of  the  choir,"  she  thought ;  "  for  if  Joseph  Lav- 
endar  will  go  on  being  foolish,  I  've  got  to  give  that 
up  ;  I  can't  be  meeting  him  without  a  third  person 
by.  And  Lyssie  won't  be  very  regular,  now  that 
she  has  this  new  interest.  Dear  me,  what  an  inter 
est  it  must  be  !  "  She  sighed,  and  stared  with  un 
seeing  eyes  at  a  scarlet  pimpernel  which  had  seized 
a  little  root-hold  for  itself  in  a  crevice  at  the  foot  of 
the  steps.  She  remembered,  dully,  that  she  must  go 
clown  to  the  barn  and  see  about  putting  up  the  stan 
chions  for  her  Jersey  heifer,  a  pretty  creature  who 
was  now  a  mother,  and  so  must  have  a  stall,  and  put 
her  deerlike  head  between  the  stanchions,  and  forget 
her  careless  life  in  meadows  and  upland  pastures. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  199 

Miss  Susan  had  been  greatly  interested  in  Clover's 
pedigree,  and  her  "  coming  in,"  and  the  butter  qual 
ity  of  the  milk ;  but  somehow,  this  morning  it  all 
seemed  dull  and  flat.  To  look  after  a  cow's  comfort, 
or  decide  on  the  necessity  of  tan  bark  for  the  straw 
berry  bed,  or  point  out  the  need  of  a  tin  patch  on 
the  corner  of  the  corn-bin,  —  all  the  imperative  in 
terests  of  her  quiet  life  looked  suddenly  dreary  and 
useless. 

It  is  a  pity,  for  the  mere  human  sympathy  of  it, 
that  the  heads  of  households,  deeply  concerned  with 
joy  and  sorrow  and  themselves,  do  not  oftener  remem 
ber  this  pain  which  comes  to  the  unmarried  woman, 
—  the  consciousness  of  unimportance.  Almost  every 
unmarried  woman  experiences  it  at  one  time  or  an 
other  in  her  life,  whether  she  is  the  necessary  maiden 
aunt,  whose  usefulness  can  scarcely  be  exaggerated, 
but  who  feels  the  lack  of  the  personal  element  in  the 
appreciation  of  her  labors,  or  whether  she  is  that 
melancholy  creature  who  solitarily  eats  and  drinks 
and  sleeps,  and  prolongs  a  colorless  existence,  igno 
rant  forever  of  either  joy  or  sorrow. 

"  Nobody  cares,"  Susan  Carr  thought,  with  wist 
ful  but  matter  of  fact  intelligence.  Yet  she  must 
go  on  building  stanchions  and  stopping  mouseholes, 
over,  and  over,  and  over  again.  Then  the  fresh 
color  deepened  a  little  in  her  face :  if  it  had  been 
possible  for  her  to  return  his  regard,  Joseph  Laven- 
dar  would  have  "  cared."  She  sighed,  and  tapped 
her  heavy  boot  upon  the  step,  and  rested  her  chin  in 
her  strong  hand.  She  almost  wished  it  had  been  pos- 


200  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

sible !  And  that  made  her  think  again  of  her  duty 
to  Joseph  Lavendar.  Yes,  Lyssie  would  probably 
miss  the  choir-practicing,  if  this  young  Carey  meant 
to  come  down  often  to  spend  Saturday  and  Sunday 
in  Old  Chester ;  then  it  came  to  her  as  quite  an  in 
spiration  that  perhaps  Mrs.  Pendleton  would  come 
and  sing  in  the  choir.  "  Not  that  she  can  sing," 
Miss  Susan  reflected,  "but  she'll  be  there,  and  I'll 
always  walk  home  with  her.  Oh  dear,  I  ought  to 
have  been  more  neighborly,  and  then  I  shouldn't 
feel  as  though  I  were  making  a  convenience  of  her 
in  asking  her  to  come."  Susan  Carr  got  up  care 
fully,  so  that  her  skirts  should  not  brush  the  pim 
pernel.  "  I  '11  go  in  and  ask  her  now,"  she  said. 

But  while  she  waited  in  the  little  widow's  trim 
parlor,  Miss  Susan  began  to  wish  she  had  chosen 
some  other  method  of  protecting  Mr.  Lavendar. 
She  looked  about  her,  and  became  conscious  of  the 
brown  of  her  ungloved  hands,  and  the  limp  lines  of 
her  woolen  gown,  which  had  shrunk  in  many  rains, 
and  faded  to  a  yellow-gray  along  the  edges  of  the 
plaits  ;  she  felt  large  and  clumsy,  and  touched  tim 
idly  a  bit  of  delicate  fancywork  on  the  table,  and 
wondered  why  she  did  not  care  to  do  things  like 
that. 

Mrs.  Pendleton's  parlor  was  a  pretty,  ladylike 
room ;  there  were  canary-bird  cages  hanging  in  the 
windows,  and  there  was  an  open  piano,  and  an  em 
broidery  frame.  And  when  the  little  lady  came  in, 
with  her  delicate,  hasty  step,  and  her  sleek  brown  h  /r 
nearly  hidden  under  a  small  square  of  lace,  and  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  201 

neat  black  silk  apron  over  a  white  dress  made  mourn 
ful  by  occasional  black  dots,  she  seemed  to  match  the 
femininity  of  the  room ;  she  had  all  the  comforting, 
caressing,  feminine  ways  which  were  so  impossible  to 
Susan  Carr,  but  which  must  have  made  life  very 
agreeable  for  the  late  Mr.  Pendleton.  She  ran  to 
get  Miss  Susan  a  footstool,  and  then  pulled  a  shade 
down  to  shield  the  clear,  strong  eyes  that  were  used 
to  the  full  glare  of  noon  sunshine  in  open  fields. 

"  How  kind  of  you  to  come  in,  dear  Miss  Carr !  " 
she  said.  "  I  was  feeling  very  lonely  this  morning." 

"  Were  you?  "  said  Miss  Susan,  in  her  loud  voice, 
which  made  Mrs.  Pendleton  wink.  "  Were  you  ? 
Why,  so  was  I !  I  think  we  ought  to  see  more  of 
each  other.  Here  we  are,  two  lone  women  — 

Mrs.  Pendleton  sighed,  and  glanced  at  her  hus 
band's  picture  above  the  fireplace.  "  Exactly.  Of 
course  I  still  feel  rather  a  stranger  here,  though 
every  one  is  so  kind.  Roger's  engagement  to  dear 
Alicia  seems  to  bring  me  nearer  to  you  all,  —  al 
though  Frances  Drayton  and  I  were  great  friends 
right  off ;  and  Jane  Dale,  even  if  a  little  stern  at 
times,  is  always  exceedingly  kind  to  me." 

Miss  Carr  never  could  suppress  a  quiver  of  sur 
prise  in  her  face  when  Mrs.  Pendleton  used  thus 
freely  the  first  names  of  persons  whom  she  would 
never  have  dreamed  of  addressing  so  informally. 

"  I  'm  sure  Mrs.  Dale  and  Mrs.  Drayton  have  en 
joyed  your  society,"  she  said  stiffly;  "and  — 

But  Mrs.  Pendleton  fluttered  up  from  her  chair. 
"Dear,  dear!  I  didn't  give  you  a  f  an !  "  she  cried, 


202  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

and  ran  to  fetch  a  little  open-work  ivory  affair  run 
through  with  a  pink  ribbon,  and  clattering  very 
much  when  one  tried  to  use  it. 

Miss  Susan  looked  at  it  as  though  afraid  that  it 
would  break  in  her  hands,  and  spread  it  carefully 
open  upon  her  brown  linsey-woolsey  lap. 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  declared,  "  I  'm  truly 
gratified  by  dear  Roger's  engagement.  But  do  you 
think  dear  Alicia  is  like  her  sister  ?  Much  as  I  ad 
mire  and  love  Cecil  Shore,  I  do  hope  dear  Alicia  is 
not  just  like  her?" 

"Lyssie  has  n't  Cecil's  looks,"  said  Miss  Carr 
gruffly,  "  but  she  has  some  of  her  sister's  good  points, 
I  am  sure." 

"  Exactly.  But  I  was  thinking.  I  called  on 
Cecil  yesterday,  and  her  little  Molly  —  dear  me  ! 
why,  she  never  thought  of  obeying  her  mother.  I 
hope  —  it  sounds  a  little  indelicate,  but  still,  such 
things  do  happen,  you  know  —  I  hope  if  Lyssie  at 
any  time  has  —  I  mean  if  —  if  there  should  be  a 
family,  I  hope  Lyssie  will  insist  upon  obedience.  I 
really  felt  it  so  much  when  I  saw  that  little  Molly 
that  I  almost  wanted  to  warn  dear  Alicia ;  but  of 
course  it  would  not  have  been  proper." 

"  It  would  have  been  premature,  I  think,"  Miss 
Carr  said.  ("  If  I  don't  ask  her  now  about  the  prac 
ticing,  she  will  make  me  so  cross  I  shan't  do  it  at 
all,")  she  thought ;  and  said,  abruptly,  something 
about  Lyssie's  being  a  good  deal  occupied  just  now, 
and  wondering  whether  Mrs.  Pendleton  would  not 
come  and  sing  in  the  choir. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  203 

"  I  ?  But  I  don't  sing  very  well."  The  color 
came  into  the  little  birdlike  creature's  face,  and  she 
sewed  rapidly.  Then,  with  a  conscious  look  at  Miss 
Susan,  she  added,  "  And  I  'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  do 
for  me  to  come  ;  I  'm  afraid  I  ought  to  keep  away ; 
considering  the  circumstances." 

Susan  Carr  grew  red  and  hot.  Not  do  ?  Why 
would  n't  it  do  ?  Of  course  it  would  do !  Her  kind 
face  was  suddenly  angry  and  alarmed.  Was  it  pos 
sible  that  Mr.  Joseph  had  confided  his  hopes  to  Mrs. 
Pendleton  ?  But  even  if  he  had,  it  was  most  im 
proper  in  her  to  make  any  such  reference  ! 

"  Of  course  it  will  do  for  you  to  come,"  she  de 
clared  loudly ;  "  it  will  be  much  pleasanter  for  us  all 
to  have  you,  and  we  really  need  another  voice." 

"  If  I  thought  it  wouldn't  be  harder  for  Mr.  Lav- 
endar  ?  "  Mrs.  Pendleton  pondered  doubtfully. 

Miss  Susan  stared  at  her.  "  I  never  met  such  an 
indelicate  person !  "  she  thought.  She  got  up,  and 
stood  in  a  truculent  attitude,  her  hand  on  her  hip. 
"  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Pendleton,  your  presence  will 
be  a  great  addition  ;  it  will  be  a  good  deal  pleasanter 
for  Mr.  Lavendar,  and  for  me  too."  ("  I  don't 
know  how  much  she  knows,"  thought  Miss  Susan, 
"  but  that  may  enlighten  her  as  to  the  real  state  of 
the  case.") 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  "  Mrs.  Pendleton  said 
slowly.  "  Well,  then  I  '11  come.  Yes,  I  '11  come." 


XVI. 

Your  opinions  are  absolute  to  you  because  they  are  the  opinions 
of  your  time  and  place.  You  have  so  thoroughly,  so  totally  accepted 
them  that  you  with  greatest  difficulty  are  able  to  believe  that  any 
man  is  a  good  man  and  a  true  man  who  believes  that  which  you  dis 
believe,  or  disbelieves  that  which  you  hold  true. 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

VIGILANCE  being  the  price  of  success,  Miss  Susan 
Carr  felt  that,  although  she  had  thus  far  kept  Mr. 
Lavendar  silent,  she  must  not  relax  her  care ;  and 
for  that  reason  she  named  an  evening  when  he  was 
not  in  town,  for  a  little  festivity  in  compliment  to 
Mr.  Roger  Carey,  when  he  should  come  down  to  Old 
Chester  to  have  another  glimpse  of  Lyssie.  Mr. 
Carey  was  to  spend  four  days  in  town,  and  go  away 
on  Tuesday;  so  Miss  Susan  sent  out  a  number  of 
neat  little  notes,  requesting  the  pleasure  of  every 
body's  company  at  eight  o'clock  on  Monday  even 
ing. 

"It  is  quite  marked  not  to  have  it  on  Saturday, 
when  Joseph  is  in  town  ;  he  will  feel  the  slight,  and 
it  will  show  him  there  's  no  hope  for  him,"  she 
said  to  herself,  with  melancholy  satisfaction.  To 
consider  and  protect  another  person  is  one  way  of 
creating  a  tenderness  for  him.  Miss  Susan  Carr's 
good  intentions  towards  her  unsuccessful  suitor 
kept  him  constantly  in  her  mind;  and  protected 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  205 

her,  too,  from  that  dismayed  afterthought  which 
follows  an  impulsive  invitation,  —  an  afterthought 
which  even  the  most  hospitable  have  been  known  to 
feel. 

Her  invitation  had  been  given  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  when  Lyssie  had  told  her  that  Roger  was 
coming. 

"  Well,  we  must  have  a  little  entertainment  for 
him !  "  said  good  Miss  Susan  heartily,  and  oblivious, 
as  such  well-meaning  persons  are,  to  the  bore  it 
might  be  to  Roger  Carey  to  spend  one  of  his  precious 
evenings  in  company.  "  We  must  have  a  little 
party,  Lyssie,  my  child.  Ellen  shall  do  some  jellied 
tongues,  and  I  '11  make  the  cake  myself.  You  will 
have  to  lend  me  some  spoons,  Lyssie,  and  I  '11  bor 
row  Mrs.  Dale's  punch  bowl." 

Miss  Carr  beamed,  and  Lyssie  kissed  her  and 
thanked  her,  all  the  pretty  gratitude  of  youth  speak 
ing  in  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  'm  going,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar  to 
Philip,  on  the  afternoon  preceding  the  social  event. 
"  I  don't  know  why.  I  have  my  own  home,  and  my 
books,  and  my  pipe  ;  so  why  I  should  go  and  chat 
ter  for  a  whole  evening,  and  eat  indigestible  messes, 
I  can't  understand.  Do  you  think  Miss  Susan  would 
be  offended  if  I  went  home  at  half  past  nine, 
Philip?" 

"  You  must  stay  for  the  supper,  must  n't  you  ?  " 
Philip  suggested.  "  You  know,  next  to  Lyssie  and 
Carey,  you  are  the  star.  Yes,  I  'm  afraid  you  must 
n't  leave  until  after  ten." 


206  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar  resignedly,  "  I 
suppose  she  meant  well,  —  Susan  means  better  than 
most  people.  She  's  a  fine  woman,  an  intelligent 
woman,  but  really  — 

"  She  does  well,  too,"  Philip  interposed.  "  She  's 
spent  this  whole  day  with  poor  little  Eliza  Todd. 
The  baby  was  born  this  morning,  and  Miss  Susan 
has  been  taking  care  of  the  mother  and  child  as 
though  she  were  a  trained  nurse." 

"In  spite  of  anxieties  about  her  ball?  "  said  the 
old  clergyman,  smiling  and  frowning.  "  So  the 
baby  's  come  ?  Is  Job  sober  ?  " 

"  We  don't  know.  He  beat  Eliza  yesterday,  and 
this  followed ;  he  promptly  disappeared  when  he  saw 
what  he  had  done.  That  is  what  I  came  to  see  you 
about,  sir.  I  think  it  's  time  this  matter  was  taken 
in  hand." 

"  Dear,  dear  !  Why,  this  is  very  bad,  —  really, 
this  is  very  bad.  How  is  the  poor  thing  doing, 
Philip  ?  She  's  in  good  hands  if  Susan  Carr  is  look 
ing  after  her.  But  it 's  too  bad !  "  Dr.  Lavendar 
was  greatly  concerned;  he  pushed  his  chair  back 
from  his  lathe,  and  drummed  on  the  table  with  wor 
ried  finger  tips.  He  had  been  cutting  a  green  gar 
net  when  Philip  entered,  and  his  reluctance  to  put 
his  work  aside  was  evident ;  but  now  all  that  was 
forgotten.  "  Too  bad  ;  dear,  dear  !  " 

"  What  a  poor,  forlorn  little  thing  she  is,"  said 
Philip  ;  "  and  I  remember  what  a  nice  little  body 
she  seemed  when  they  first  came  to  Old  Chester. 
That  Todd  is  a  perfect  beast." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  207 

"  I  never  saw  a  beast  who  wouldn't  be  insulted  at 
the  comparison,"  Dr.  Lavendar  declared,  chuckling  to 
himself.  "  Well,  women  are  strange  creatures.  Why 
did  she  ever  marry  him  ?  Brown  told  me  —  Brown 
married  'em  in  Mercer  —  he  told  me  he  warned  the 
silly  thing ;  told  her  she  was  a  foolish  woman  to 
marry  a  drinking  man.  But  she  would  do  it ;  would 
do  it.  Yes,  in  marriage,  women  have  no  common 
sense.  Well,  neither  have  men,  for  that  matter,"  he 
ended,  and  sighed  deeply. 

He  got  up  and  hobbled  stiffly  across  the  room  to 
a  high-backed  leather  chair  that  stood  by  the  hearth. 
It  was  cooler,  on  this  glowing  August  day,  near  the 
dark  cavern  of  the  empty  fireplace  ;  it  looked  cooler, 
at  least,  for  the  soot  on  the  chimney  back  caught 
cold,  iridescent  gleams  from  the  pale  light  filtering 
down  the  chimney  and  falling  on  the  dusty  heap  of 
ashes  between  the  andirons.  Dr.  Lavendar  drew  a 
little  leather  tobacco  pouch  from  the  pocket  of  his 
faded  dressing  gown,  and  began  to  fill  his  pipe. 
"  Sometimes  this  question  of  marriage  seems  quite 
puzzling,"  he  said  sadly. 

"  I  've  been  struck  by  that  myself,"  Philip  con 
fessed,  with  a  curious  smile,  "  but  I  must  say  it 
seems  simple  enough  in  this  case.  She  ought  to 
leave  him."  He  had  followed  the  old  man,  and 
stood  leaning  his  elbow  on  the  mantelpiece. 

"  What  ?  Leave  Job  ?  Eliza  leave  her  husband  ? 
Come,  come,  sir,  we  don't  believe  in  such  things  in 
Old  Chester." 

Philip  looked  a  little  anxious ;  he  wanted  to  gain 


208  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

Dr.  Lavenclar's  consent  to  a  step  he  was  meditating, 
—  the  breaking  up  of  the  Todds'  wretched  home, 
and  the  separation  of  the  husband  and  wife.  He 
knew  —  so  great  was  the  old  clergyman's  influence 
in  his  parish  —  that  Eliza  could  hardly  be  persuaded 
to  take  such  a  step  without  his  consent. 

"  See  here,  sir,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  pulling  hard 
upon  his  pipe,  "you've  come  back  to  the  home 
of  your  youth,  but  don't  put  on  airs ;  don't  bring 
any  of  your  wicked,  worldly  ideas  here  to  corrupt 
us." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Philip,  with  the  affec 
tionate  impertinence  of  the  young  man  who  knows 
he  is  liked,  "  what  I  'm  afraid  of  is  that  you  '11  cor 
rupt  me.  In  my  wicked,  worldly  way,  I  had  sup 
posed  we  had  some  responsibilities  to  each  other ; 
but  I  find  Old  Chester  particeps  criminis  in  an  at 
tempted  murder,  for  you  've  none  of  you  interfered 
to  keep  Todd  from  attacking  his  wife." 

"  Interfered  ? "  cried  the  other  indignantly. 
"  Sir,  I  had  a  conversation  with  Todd  only  a  week 
ago.  I  said  to  him,  '  Todd  '  Young  man,  what 

are  you  grinning  at  ?  " 

"  Grinning  ?  "  Philip  protested.  "  My  dear  Dr. 
Lavendar  !  But  look  here,  ought  n't  something  to 
be  done  about  it  ?  For  the  woman's  safety,  —  to 
say  nothing  of  other  reasons,  —  for  her  personal 
safety,  she  ought  to  be  taken  away  from  Todd." 

"  And  what,  sir,  will  become  of  Todd  ? "  Dr. 
Lavendar  demanded,  twinkling  up  at  Philip  with  his 
fierce  little  brown  eyes.  "  When  he  is  n't  drunk, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  209 

his  wife  's  an  influence  for  good.  And  would  you 
have  her  leave  him,  to  save  her  precious  skin  ?  " 

"  There  is  something  beside  her  skin  to  be  con 
sidered  ;  the  degradation  —  " 

"  She  took  him  for  better  or  worse,"  Dr.  Laven- 
dar  broke  in.  "Well,  she's  got  the  worse.  Let 
her  stick  to  her  bargain  and  do  her  duty.  The  only 
thing  I  wish  is  that  she  could  be  taught  to  hold  her 
tongue.  She  ought  to  be  more  intelligent,  and  not 
talk  to  him  when  he 's  drunk.  Well,  well,  poor- 
soul  !  I  may  seem  severe,  but  not  at  all ;  I  was 
merely  explaining.  And  this  baby  is  the  seventh  ? 
We  must  see  that  she  has  her  coal  this  winter." 

"  But  that 's  just  the  point,"  said  Philip.  "  The 
seventh !  and  there  may  be  seventeen.  And  you 
and  Miss  Susan  will  go  on  supporting  them.  Now, 
are  n't  you  simply  encouraging  Todd  in  drunkenness 
and  idleness,  when  you  two  take  care  of  his  family 
for  him  ?  Why,  as  a  mere  matter  of  political  econ 
omy  it 's  bad." 

"Political  economy!  Upon  my  word,  Philip,  I 
should  n't  have  thought  it  of  you,  —  to  bring  eco 
nomics  into  a  question  of  sentiment." 

"  Sentiment !  "  said  Philip  Shore,  with  a  gesture 
of  disgust.  "  There 's  no  sentiment  in  a  relation 
like  this ;  it 's  simply  debasing  to  the  man  and  the 
woman  and  the  community." 

"  There  's  nothing  debasing  about  it.  They  are 
married.  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

Philip  hesitated,  and  then  said  gravely,  "  It  seems 
to  me,  sir,  as  shameful  for  a  man  and  woman  to^  live 


210  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

within  the  law  hating  and  despising  each  other,  as 
these  two  poor  things  do,  as  to  live  outside  the  law 
with  love.  That 's  why  I  say  it 's  debasing." 

Dr.  Lavendar  looked  at  him,  speechless  with  hor 
ror. 

"  One  of  these  days,"  proceeded  the  young  man 
thoughtfully,  "  perhaps  we  '11  be  moral  enough  and 
civilized  enough  to  have  the  state  break  up  such 
marriages.  The  very  idea  of  the  seventeen  possible 
children  is  shameful,  and  a  menace  to  the  state. 
For  what  sort  of  citizens  are  they  likely  to  be,  the 
children  of  such  parents  ?  " 

"  The  children  are  the  Lord's  affair,"  began  Dr. 
Lavendar. 

"  The  devil's,  I  should  say.  I  tell  you  what  it  is, 
the  human  race  will  have  to  pay  a  high  price  some 
time  for  its  philanthropy ;  you  good  people  who  are 
doing  your  level  best  to  keep  such  poor  little 
wretches  alive,  and  advocating  their  being  born,  are 
trying  to  secure  the  survival  of  the  unfittest !  " 

"  Well,  upon  my  word !  "  said  Dr.  Lavendar 
again,  "  is  it  murder  you  want  ?  And  you  're  a  fool, 
sir ;  you  forget  your  Bible  :  '  Children  are  from  the 
Lord ;  happy  is  the  man  that  hath  his  quiver  full 
of  'em ; '  and  as  for  breaking  up  marriages,  '  Those 
whom  God  hath  joined  together  let  no  man  put 
asunder.'  I  never  heard  such  sentiments  in  my  life. 
You  grieve  me,  Philip,  I  tell  you ;  yes,  you  grieve 


me,  sir." 


Under  all  the  anger  of  frowning  brows   and  nod 
ding  head,  there  was  genuine  trouble  in  his  face ;  it 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  211 

was  the  trouble  which  is  as  old  as  the  relationship  of 
father  and  son,  —  the  resentment  of  being  outgrown. 
We  are  constantly  depressed,  and,  let  us  admit  it, 
irritated,  by  the  certainty  of  the  younger  generation 
that  they  have  demolished  our  truths,  truths  which 
we  evolved  from  our  fathers'  errors.  But  there  is  at 
least  a  satisfaction  in  realizing  that  this  same  confi 
dent  and  conceited  generation  will  sometime  experi 
ence  the  emotions  which  we  now  know,  of  being  set 
upon  the  shelf  ! 

Philip  was  distressed  at  the  effect  of  his  theories ; 
he  would  have  gone  back  to  the  danger  to  Eliza 
Todd  of  remaining  with  a  husband  who  beat  her,  but 
Dr.  Lavendar  insisted  upon  an  explanation.  Yet  he 
hardly  had  patience  to  listen  while  Philip  tried  to 
explain  his  position  in  regard  to  separation,  and  his 
belief  that  divorce  was  a  concession  necessary  to  the 
present  stage  of  spiritual  evolution,  but  deplorable 
as  delaying  the  idealization  of  marriage.  "  But  I 
do  believe  in  separation,"  he  ended  earnestly,  "  and 
I  think  a  higher  morality  will  demand  it." 

"  Higher  fiddlesticks  !  You  'd  have  people  part  as 
soon  as  they  got  tired  of  their  bargain.  How  much 
sacredness  would  a  bargain  have  if  it  could  be  dis 
solved  for  every  whim?  You  are  advocating  free 
love,  Philip  !  Do  you  realize  that  ?  You  are  advo 
cating  free  love  ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Philip,  "  if  there 's  any  choice  be 
tween  your  ecclesiastical  reason  and  my  social  reason 
for  deciding  upon  the  moment  when  a  bad  bargain 
should  end,  I  must  say  I  think  the  odds  are  with 


212  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

me.  It 's  a  matter  of  degree ;  you  make  another 
crime  necessary  before  you  will  allow  the  criminality 
of  a  loveless  marriage  to  end ;  I  say,  end  it  because 
it  is  a  crime." 

"  Marriage  a  crime  ?  "  Dr.  Lavendar  repeated, 
bewildered. 

"  A  marriage  without  love  is  at  variance  with  the 
interests  of  society,"  said  Philip  ;  "  that  seems  to  me 
a  crime." 

"  But  that  is  n't  the  fault  of  marriage  ;  that 's  be 
cause  one  or  both  of  them  are  selfish  fools.  Let 
them  try  to  love  each  other !  But  go  on,  go  on,"  he 
commanded  resignedly.  "  I  should  like  to  know 
just  how  lost  to  all  moral  sense  you  are." 

But  Philip  was  evidently  anxious  to  change  the 
subject;  he  said,  restrainedly,  something  about  the 
curious  survival  of  Mosaic  law  in  regard  to  marriage, 
while  in  other  relations  of  life  —  parents  and  chil 
dren,  buyers  and  sellers  —  it  did  not  prevail. 
"  Some  of  those  old  laws  have  been  the  bulwarks  of 
crime,"  he  added  ;  "  think  how  they  protected  sla 
very,  and  burned  witches,  and  did  all  sorts  of  un 
pleasant  things." 

But  Dr.  Lavendar  fumed  and  fretted,  and  waved 
his  pipe  at  him.  "  Well,  never  mind  the  Mosaic 
laws,  —  I  'm  sure  I  'm  glad  you  are  so  well  ac 
quainted  with  your  Bible,  though  there  is  another 
person  of  perverted  views  who  can  quote  Scripture 
for  his  purpose,  too,  —  but  I  want  to  ask  you  one 
question:  Where  does  duty  come  in?  Do  you 
think  we  can  get  along  without  duty  in  this  civiliza- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  213 

tion  you  talk  so  much  about  ?  Young  man,  for 
eighteen  hundred  years  the  ultimatum  of  marriage 
has  rested  upon  a  divine  word  concerning  it,  and 
men  and  women  have  done  their  duty,  and  we  Ve 
gotten  along  pretty  well,  I  think.  Talk  about  your 
civilization  and  your  economics  !  I  tell  you,  Philip, 
you  belong  to  this  ungodly  time  of  rooting  up  and 
casting  out  the  things  that  were  sacred  to  your 
fathers."  He  spoke  in  his  angry  way,  frowning 
heavily,  and  shaking  his  lean,  grimy  forefinger  at 
the  young  man.  "  And  another  thing  I  want  to 
know  is,  what  will  you  do  with  the  children  when 
you  go  about  breaking  up  families  ?  Don't  you  see 
any  duties  to  the  children  and  the  home  ?  " 

Philip  started  as  though  something  had  stabbed 
him.  "  First  of  all,  for  the  children's  sake  I  'd  have 
such  marriages  broken  up.  The  living  together  of 
a  husband  and  wife  divorced  in  everything  but  word 
is  horrible  for  the  children.  Think  of  the  partisan 
ship  !  And  when  respect  has  ceased  and  love  has 
ceased,  what  sort  of  a  home  does  that  make  for  the 
children  ?  I  'm  not  talking  of  gross  sins  now  ;  I 
mean  the  mere  living  together  of  a  father  and  mother 
who  don't  love  each  other.  Whether  it 's  their  mis 
fortune  or  their  failure,  or  whatever  you  choose  to 
call  it— " 

"  Sin,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar. 

"  —  they  ought  to  part  just  because  of  the  chil 
dren,  even  if  there  were  no  desire  for  personal  in 
tegrity." 

"  I  never  expected  to  hear  you  say  you  believed  in 


214  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

free  love !  "  declared  the  other,  too  irritated  to  answer 
by  any  argument. 

"  I  don't,"  Philip  began.  "  I  only  said  —  " 
"  Oh,  you  used  a  lot  of  fine  words,"  interrupted 
Dr.  Lavendar,  "  but  that 's  what  it  amounted  to. 
Philip,  the  older  we  grow,  the  more  we  learn  of  what 
we  call  science,  I  tell  you,  the  more  we  come  back  to 
God.  And  you  '11  find,  when  you  get  over  being 
modern,  that  the  old  words,  the  simple  words,  '  Those 
whom  God  hath  joined  together,  let  no  man  put 
asunder,'  —  words  that  you,  in  your  wisdom,  have 
discarded,  —  hold  the  eternal  truth  for  us.  Yes, 
sir,  this  civilization  you  are  so  fond  of  talking  about 
rests  on  marriage." 

"  Indeed  it  does  !  "  cried  Philip  Shore,  the  per 
sonal  reality  breaking  suddenly  through  his  merely 
intellectual,  argumentative  statements.  "  My  God  ! 
a  man's  salvation  rests  on  it.  Only,  what  do  you 
call  marriage  ?"  He  caught  his  breath,  and  stood 
silent,  grinding  his  heel  down  on  the  hearth.  "  Why, 
Dr.  Lavendar,"  he  went  on,  in  a  low  voice,  "  what 
God  hath  joined  man  cannot  put  asunder !  Trouble 
can't  sunder  such  a  husband  and  wife,  nor  sin,  nor 
misery,  nor  death  itself,  if  God  has  joined  them. 
But  when  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  or  the  lust  of  the  eye, 
or  the  pride  of  life  joins  a  man  and  woman,  is  that 
marriage  ?  If  they  are  not  sundered  "  —  he  stopped, 
and  walked  the  length  of  the  room,  —  "  if  they  are 
not  sundered,"  he  said  harshly,  "  if  they  have  not 
the  moral  courage  to  part,  it  is  degradation,  it  is  de 
filement,  it  is  —  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  215 

"It  is  duty,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar. 

"  This  question  of  marriage  and  divorce,"  cried 
the  young  man  passionately,  "  is  the  question  of  our 
day.  We  must  meet  it,  we  must  answer  it,  —  some 
of  us.  But  we  have  no  appeal  except  to  eternal 
principles.  This  is  n't  a  time  to  talk  about  Moses 
and  the  prophets  ;  we  've  got  to  come  to  each  man's 
own  conscience.  Yes,  that  is  the  only  ultimate  voice. 
But  who  has  courage  for  it  ?  And  if  a  man  does  n't 
have  courage,  look  at  the  penalty  :  the  continuance 
of  a  lie,  for  expediency  or  decency  or  mere  comfort, 
shuts  him  out  from  all  spiritual  possibilities." 

44  Shuts  him  out  from  spiritual  possibilities  ? 
Shuts  him  out  ?  Man,  it  opens  the  door  to  him,  if 
such  continuance  be  his  duty.  Philip,  my  boy,  no 
priest  or  prophet,  no  Bible  or  liturgy,  no  vision  upon 
Patmos,  ever  exceeded  the  inspiration  which  comes 
to  a  man  from  the  simple  doing  of  Ms  duty  !  " 

Philip,  lifting  his  head  with  sudden  solemnity,  as 
though  he  heard  a  summons  in  the  words,  said  slowly, 
44 1  am  sure  of  that." 


xvn. 

A  party  given  by  the  smaller  gentry  of  the  interior  is  a  kind  of 
solemnity.  It  involves  so  much  labor  and  anxiety  ...  its  spasmodic 
splendors  are  so  violently  contrasted  with  the  homeliness  of  every 
day  family  life.  —  0.  W.  HOLMES. 

"  WHY,  but  Lyssie,  it 's  our  last  evening ;  we 
don't  want  to  spend  it  with  a  lot  of  gaping  peo 
ple." 

"  Oh,  are  n't  you  ashamed  to  say  such  a  thing ! 
Miss  Susan  is  so  kind  to  want  us." 

"  Well,  we  don't  want  her  —  I  mean  we  don't 
want  to  go  to  her  old  party.  It  would  be  a  great 
deal  kinder  to  leave  us  out,"  Roger  grumbled;  and 
tried  to  console  himself  by  giving  his  little  sweet 
heart  a  kiss ;  but  she  repulsed  him  with  firmness. 

"  You  '11  crush  my  dress  !  keep  away,  —  yes,  at 
least  a  yard  away.  There  !  there  's  my  hand.  You 
may  kiss  that." 

Roger  kissed  the  hand  humbly,  but,  with  it  in  his 
grasp,  took  base  advantage  of  her  condescension,  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms  without  the  slightest  consid 
eration  for  her  dress. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Lyssie,  horrified,  and  then  ran  to 
look  in  the  mirror  with  great  concern  ;  but  finding 
herself  quite  unruffled,  declared  that  it  was  time  to 
start.  "  And  please,  Roger,  be  nice,"  she  pleaded ; 
"  try  to  talk  to  people,  and  don't  look  bored.  No 
body  can  be  so  very  nice  as  you  —  when  you  want 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  217 

I 

to."  From  which  it  will  be  seen  that  Miss  Alicia 
Drayton  possessed  a  weapon  used  by  most  intelligent 
wives  in  most  happy  households. 

Not  even  Mrs.  Drayton's  gentle  resignation  at  be 
ing  left  alone  had  dimmed  Lyssie's  young  joyousness. 
As  for  Roger,  he  had  not  noticed  her  resignation ; 
he  had  only  said,  good  naturedly,  "  I  have  no  doubt 
you  're  glad  to  be  rid  of  us,  Mrs.  Drayton."  But 
when  she  was  alone,  Mrs.  Drayton  squeezed  out  a 
few  tears,  and  sighed,  and  prayed  a  little,  and  en 
joyed  the  sense  of  being  deserted  by  her  child  ;  when 
suddenly  a  pang  of  reality  dried  her  eyes,  and 
made  her  sit  up  straight,  while  her  lip  trembled  in 
earnest.  The  thought  had  come  to  her  of  the  time 
when  Lyssie  would  marry  Eoger,  and  go  away  to  be 
happy  in  a  home  of  her  own  ;  and  she,  Lyssie's  mother, 
who  had  done  everything  in  the  world  for  her,  she 
would  be  left  alone  —  alone  ! 

"  A  girl  never  thinks  of  anybody  but  herself," 
she  thought,  with  angry  apprehension ;  then  she 
really  and  truly  cried,  and  when  Esther  came  in  to 
make  her  comfortable  for  the  night  she  waved  her 
away  impatiently.  "  No  ;  I  must  begin  to  learn  to 
take  care  of  myself.  I  must  get  used  to  being  un 
comfortable.  Go  away  !  "  she  gurgled. 

But  Esther  went  calmly  about  her  various  duties 
in  the  invalid's  room,  only  saying  now  and  then, 
"  There,  now,  Mrs.  Drayton,  I  would  n't." 

" 1  '11  never  live  to  bear  it,"  Mrs.  Drayton  sobbed. 
"  Lyssie  will  have  that  to  think  of,  —  that  she  just 
killed  her  mother.  But  I  don't  suppose  it  will  make 
the  slightest  difference  to  her  ;  she  '11  be  happy." 


218  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  Turn  your  head  a  little,  m'm,  so  I  can  brush  the 
other  side,"  said  Esther. 

And  Mrs.  Drayton  turned  her  head,  still  weeping, 
and  saying,  "  Yes,  I  had  far,  far  better  die,  —  you  're 
pulling,  Esther  !  —  and  let  her  be  happy.  Ah,  Es 
ther  Brown,  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  your 
child  prefer  some  one  else,  a  stranger,  to  you  !  " 

"  No,  m'm,"  Esther  agreed  calmly  ;  an  assurance 
scarcely  necessary  from  the  sedate  spinster  who  had 
served  Mrs.  Drayton  since  Alicia's  birth. 

"  It 's  a  little  bitter  to  think  that  she  's  enjoying 
herself,"  said  the  invalid,  "  while  I  - 

Yes,  Alicia  was  enjoying  herself.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  young  life  she  was  important,  and  of 
course  that  is  a  great  experience  ;  but  added  to  that 
was  the  new  and  exquisite  joy  of  proprietorship.  To 
follow  Koger  with  her  happy  eyes,  as  he  talked  with 
this  or  that  old  friend  ;  to  watch  him  "  being  nice  " 
to  Miss  Susan's  guests ;  to  listen,  radiant  and  assent 
ing,  to  the  pleasant  things  which  people  said  to  her 
of  him  ;  and  to  feel  that  he  was  Aers,  that  he  be 
longed  to  her,  was  engaged  to  her,  —  ah,  it  was  very 
wonderful,  very  uplifting.  "  He  's  being  appreci 
ated  !  "  she  said  to  herself  triumphantly. 

So  far  as  guests  went,  Miss  Susan's  party  was  a 
great  success.  The  library,  and  the  two  parlors  on 
the  other  side  of  the  hall,  long,  cheerless  rooms, 
rarely  used,  and  smelling  of  linen  furniture  covers, 
were  comfortably  filled.  Mercer  was  represented, 
and  even  Ashurst ;  for  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Drayton, 
of  that  sleepy  town,  had  come,  in  spite  of  the  length 


PHILIP  AJ^D  HIS  WIFE.  219 

of  the  journey,  to  make  the  occasion  yet  more  dis 
tinguished.  Of  course  all  Old  Chester  was  present. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dove  were  there,  each  uncomfortable 
for  the  sake  of  the  other,  and  Mr.  Tommy  so  plainly 
unhappy,  so  unconventionally  unhappy,  that  twice 
his  wife  found  him  standing  in  front  of  the  clock  in 
the  hall,  gazing  wistfully  at  the  stretch  between  ten 
and  eleven  which  must  be  gotten  through  before  they 
could  go  home. 

Dr.  Lavendar  had  arrived  full  of  fierce  good 
nature  and  unfailing  kindliness.  Cecil  had  come  ; 
very  late,  to  be  sure,  which  made  Lyssie  anxious  for 
appearance  sake.  Mrs.  Shore  was  superb  in  a 
gown  the  color  of  that  green  moss  that  lies  deep  in 
wet  woods,  —  moss  on  which  the  sunshine,  sifting 
down  through  the  leafy  darkness  of  lacing  boughs, 
strikes  faint  glints  and  spangles  of  light.  About  her 
throat  was  some  yellow  lace,  caught  together  on  her 
breast  by  a  great  square  topaz  in  an  old-fashioned 
setting  of  pale  gold.  She  did  her  part  nobly.  She 
talked  to  Mr.  Tommy  Dove  with  genuine  kindness, 
and  gave  the  little  gentleman,  who  responded  "  Yes, 
ma'am,"  and  "  No,  ma'am,"  to  her  remarks,  the  only 
happy  moment  he  knew  that  evening.  She  was  elabo 
rately  civil  to  Mrs.  Dale ;  the  more  so,  perhaps,  as 
that  excellent  woman's  disappointment  in  discovering 
nothing  of  which  she  could  disapprove  in  the  younger 
woman's  manner  was  quite  obvious  to  Mrs.  Shore. 
She  stopped  and  spoke  to  Dr.  Lavendar  ;  a  little 
nervously,  oddly  enough,  for  the  old  man  always 
made  her  uncomfortable.  He  did  so  now,  by  his  in- 


220  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 


,  half-pitiful  look,  rather  than  by  his  words, 
which  did  not  impress  her,  being  merely,  "  Well, 
Cecilia,  I  hope  you  are  a  good  wife  ?  Your  husband 
has  views  about  marriage  which  are  no  credit  to  his 
wife."  She  was  glad  to  leave  him,  even  though  it 
was  to  go  and  sit  down  by  her  aunt  Maria  Drayton. 
("  I  touched  my  highest  level  then,"  she  told  Roger 
Carey  afterwards,  with  entire  seriousness.)  Colonel 
Drayton,  who  never  shirked  the  duty  of  letting 
people  speak  to  him,  gave  his  niece  his  hand,  and 
then  left  her,  while  he  proceeded  to  make  a  tour  of 
Miss  Susan's  rooms. 

"You  must  not  mind  your  uncle's  leaving  us. 
He  always  tries  to  speak  to  every  one  ;  he  is  so  con 
siderate,"  murmured  Mrs.  Drayton. 

"  He  is,"  Cecil  responded  gratefully  ;  "  so  nice  to 
have  him  go  and  speak  to  people." 

"  Ah  well,  your  uncle  never  hesitates  at  any  duty," 
said  the  other,  with  that  closing  of  the  lips  and  nod 
ding  of  the  head  which  means,  "  I  wish  as  much 
might  be  said  for  you!  " 

Cecil  was  humbly  silent. 

"  I  heard  in  Mercer  that  Joseph  Lavendar  was 
very  attentive  to  some  Mrs.  Pendleton,"  Mrs.  Dray 
ton  digressed.  "  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

"Which  is  Mrs.  Pendleton?  Oh,  that  little 
body  ?  Very  nice  looking,  I  'm  sure.  I  hope  Mr. 
Lavendar  will  be  happy.  She  must  be  introduced 
to  the  Colonel  ;  it  will  please  her.  Cecil,  my  dear, 
how  is  your  husband  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  221 

Cecil's  pause  to  remember  was  filled  by  Mrs. 
Drayton's  expression  of  opinion  about  Eoger  Carey, 
which  turned  her  niece  restless,  and  made  her  say 
that  reminded  her  that  she  must  go  and  speak  to 
Mrs.  Pendleton,  if  her  aunt  Maria  would  excuse 
her? 

"It  's  the  Colonel's  example,  you  see,"  she  said 
indolently ;  and  Mrs.  Dray  ton  told  her  husband, 
afterwards,  that  she  really  believed  there  was  good 
somewhere  in  poor  Cecil.  "  I  always  felt  that  that 
child's  privilege  in  living  in  your  house  would  some 
time  express  itself  in  her  life,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Drayton  adoringly. 

Mrs.  Pendleton  was  plainly  nervous  at  Mrs. 
Shore's  attentions,  but,  with  a  view  to  being  inter 
esting,  she  did  her  best  to  say  pleasant  things ;  and 
as  it  was  a  peculiarity  of  this  amiable  woman  that 
she  could  never  say  pleasant  things  to  one  person 
without  saying  unpleasant  things  of  some  other  per 
son,  her  conversation  was  generally  interesting. 
How  pretty  Molly  was,  —  how  much  prettier  than 
any  of  the  Old  Chester  children !  How  charming 
Mrs.  Shore's  dress  looked  ;  what  a  pity  that  dear 
Susan  Carr  had  not  a  handsome  dress  !  She  hoped 
Mrs.  Shore  would  not  mind  if  she  told  her  how 
beautifully  she  walked.  "  So  gracefully,  dear  Mrs. 
Shore.  I  wish  our  dear  Lyssie  had  your  walk.  I 
hope  you  are  not  offended  at  my  speaking  out  ?  I 
never  flatter,  but  I  am  very  impulsive,  and  speak 
right  from  my  heart ;  I  shall  outgrow  it,  no  doubt." 
Cecil's  involuntary  smile  and  instant  gravity  made 


222  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

the  somewhat  mature  widow  uncomfortable,  so  she 
made  haste,  nervously,  to  speak  of  other  things. 
She  wondered  when  dear  Dr.  Lavendar  was  going  to 
print  his  book  ?  He  had  been  so  long  about  it ! 
For  her  part,  she  thought  it  was  not  well  to  be  too 
long  in  writing  a  book ;  there  was  danger  in  polish 
ing  it  too  much  ;  did  not  Mrs.  Shore  think  so  ? 

"  It  is  apt  to  make  it  shorter,"  said  Cecil. 

"  Exactly !  "  Mrs.  Pendleton  agreed  eagerly  ; 
"  that's  just  it."  And  then  she  said,  modestly,  that 
she  would  like  to  present  Mrs.  Shore  with  a  copy  of 
her  poems.  "  There  's  nothing  in  them  that  a  child 
may  not  read,"  said  Mrs.  Pendleton.  "Ah,  I'm 
not  like  the  authors  of  to-day,  Mrs.  Shore.  I  would 
never  write  anything  that  could  not  be  put  into  the 
hands  of  the  youngest  child." 

"  Adults  must  appreciate  that,"  Cecil  told  her,  so 
cordially  that  Mrs.  Pendleton  was  encouraged  to 
patter  on  about  her  "  works  "  for  the  next  ten  min 
utes.  She  confessed  that  she  was  about  to  print 
another  book,  which  she  had  named  —  "  so  much 
depends  upon  the  name,"  she  explained — which  she 
had  named  Thoughts. 

"  But  whose  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Shore  simply. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  sign  my  name,"  Mrs.  Pendleton 
answered,  not  catching,  perhaps,  the  significance  of 
the  question ;  "  I  shan't  even  put  '  Amanda  P.,' 
though  that  would  insure  the  book  attention  from 
all  the  readers  of  the  poems.  I  shall  just  say, 
Thoughts :  by  a  Lady.  Don't  you  think  that  is  a 
nice,  ladylike  tide  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  223 

"  I  never  heard  anything  more  ladylike,"  Cecil 
assured  her  warmly ;  and  Mrs.  Pendleton  told  sev 
eral  persons,  afterwards,  that  poor  dear  Cecil  had  a 
good  heart,  she  was  sure. 

As  for  Cecil,  she  felt  her  endurance  at  an  end. 
She  excused  herself  on  the  ground  of  wishing  to 
speak  to  some  one,  and,  unfastening  one  of  the  long 
French  windows  which  opened  upon  the  piazza, 
stepped  out  into  the  August  night. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon!  " 

Alicia  and  Roger,  standing  by  the  balustrade, 
laughed:  Lyssie,  with  pretty  consciousness ;  Roger, 
with  the  embarrassment  that  is  angry  at  being 
embarrassed. 

"  Why,  Lys,  Lys  I  "  Cecil  remonstrated,  smiling 
and  coming  out  into  the  shadows  where  the  lovers 
stood,  "  is  this  the  way  you  entertain  Miss  Susan's 
company  ?  Mr.  Carey,  you  won't  endear  yourself  by 
carrying  Lyssie  off." 

"  I  ought  to  go  in,"  Alicia  said  penitently ;  and 
then,  with  shy  authority,  "  Roger,  you  must  n't  —  I 
mean,  Ceci,  don't  say  4  Mr.  Carey.'  Roger,  it  is  n't 
*  Mrs.  Shore  ; '  it 's  '  Cecil.'  " 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Shore  thinks  me  too  quarrelsome  for 
such  friendliness,"  Roger  returned,  frowning. 

Cecil  simply  ignored  the  suggestion ;  she  said 
something  about  the  heat  and  being  bored  to  death. 
Poor  little  Alicia  looked  blankly  at  them.  "  Why 
won't  they  ?  "  she  thought.  "  Why  don't  they  like 
each  other  more  ? "  Lyssie  was  stumbling  very 
early  in  her  life  of  love  upon  that  rock  of  offense : 


224  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Why  do  they  not  love  each  other,  when  I  love 
them  and  they  love  me  ?  "  But  in  love  two  things 
which  are  equal  to  a  third  are  not  necessarily  equal 
to  each  other,  and  two  hands  which,  from  opposite 
sides,  give  themselves  to  one  friend  fail  sometimes  to 
enter  into  a  friendly  clasp  on  their  own  account. 
Too  often,  with  vehement  futility,  the  middleman 
insists  that  these  two  hands  must  and  shall  clasp 
each  other,  and  his  endeavor  results  only  in  pain  to 
all  three. 

"  Roger,"  the  young  girl  said,  too  straightforward 
to  know  how  to  keep  the  disappointment  from  her 
voice,  and  making  still  another  exasperating  effort, 
"  I  must  go  in,  but  you  need  n't ;  stay  out  here  with 
—  It's  cooler  here.  Ceci,  entertain  him.  won't 
you?" 

"  It  is  Mr.  Carey  who  entertains  me,"  Cecil 
answered,  and  Roger  felt  hot.  He  said  to  himself 
that  he  would  much  rather  go  in  with  Alicia,  but  of 
course  he  must  not  leave  Mrs.  Shore  alone  —  con 
found  it ! 

"  Shan't  I  get  you  a  wrap  ?  "  he  said  stiffly. 

"  No,  thank  you." 

She  sat  down  on  the  balustrade,  leaning  her  head 
back  against  one  of  the  big  wooden  columns  that 
supported  the  porch  roof. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  anything  so  stupid  ?  " 

Roger  frowned,  and  appeared  not  to  understand. 

Cecil  laughed  a  little  under  her  breath.  "  You 
do  it  very  well,  Mr.  Carey." 

"  Do  what  very  well  ?    I  'm   enjoying  myself,  if 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  225 

that 's  what  you  mean.  Miss  Carr's  kindness  in 
planning  pleasure  for  Lyssie  of  course  makes  it 
pleasant  for  me." 

"  Do  you  think,  in  contrast  to  my  remark,  that 
your  flagrant  goodness  is  quite  polite  ? "  she  said, 
and  turned  her  face  away  and  seemed  to  forget  him. 

What  was  the  evil  thing  about  her  that  made  him 
ashamed  of  his  simple  and  obvious  love-making  ?  — 
for  he  was  tingling  with  the  embarrassment  of  hav 
ing  been,  as  it  were,  discovered.  He  was  angry  with 
her  in  a  brutal  way  that  made  him  feel  that  impulse 
of  the  very  fingers  to  punish  her. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  credit  anybody  with  simple 
human  feeling  in  such  things,"  he  told  her,  wincing 
at  his  own  tone.  "  You  may  not  appreciate  Miss 
Carr's  kindness,  but  I  do." 

Cecil  turned  and  looked  at  him  with  interest* 
"  You  speak  of  virtue  as  though  it  were  a  discovery 
you  had  made,"  she  said,  in  her  slow  voice  ;  "  but, 
do  you  know,  I  too,  in  my  humble  way,  have  thought 
that  Miss  Susan  meant  to  give  pleasure  ?  Only  that 
does  not  prevent  me  from  finding  the  occasion 
stupid." 

If  she  had  not  been  sitting  there  before  him,  the 
lines  of  her  gracious  figure  seen  faintly  in  the  half- 
light,  and  her  white  throat  melting  into  the  lace  that 
filled  the  bosom  of  her  dress  to  her  waist,  his  anger 
might  have  lasted ;  but  he  could  not  be  angry  as  he 
looked  at  her,  and  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  away 
from  her.  His  admiration  began  to  speak  in  his 
voice,  —  in  the  warmer  tone,  the  softer  words  ;  but 


226  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

lie  made  his  fault-finding  raillery  instead  of  rudeness. 
He  teased  her,  and  contradicted  her,  and  laughed  at 
her.  When  she  defended  herself,  he  answered  with 
a  man's  good-humored  contempt  of  a  woman's  opin 
ion,  which,  while  it  made  her  confused  and  petulant 
and  half  irritated,  gave  her  also  that  strange  plea 
sure,  which  only  strong  women  know,  of  coming,  as 
it  were,  to  heel. 

In  the  midst  of  it  Philip  came  along  the  porch, 
and  Cecil  called  to  him  to  know  what  time  it 
was. 

"  Is  n't  it  almost  time  to  go  home  ?  Oh,  Philip, 
what  bomb  have  you  been  exploding  at  the  rectory  ? 
Dr.  Lavendar  assailed  me  because  of  your  views 
about  marriage.  Eeally,  it  does  seem  hard  that  I 
should  be  held  responsible  for  your  opinions." 

"  It 's  nearly  ten.  You  won't  go  before  supper, 
of  course  ?  " 

"  Ten  !  I  thought  it  was  two.  Oh,  must  we  stay 
for  supper?  Mr.  Carey,  you'll  have  to,"  she  ended 
maliciously,  "  for  Lys  won't  want  to  leave  until  the 
last  moment.  How  you  will  appreciate  Old  Ches 
ter's  idea  of  a  salad !  " 

This  time  Roger  Carey  had  no  protest  for  the  vio 
lated  hospitality.  "  I  '11  try  what  influence  can  do. 
Perhaps  we  can  get  away  right  after  supper." 

"It  is  just  ready,  I  believe,"  Philip  said,  and 
would  have  left  them,  but  Cecil  stopped  him. 

"  What  is  this  thing  which  has  agitated  Dr.  Lav 
endar?  Do  tell  us.  Your  ideas  are  always  so 
amusing." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  227 

"  If  I  amuse  you,  I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  Ca 
rey,  will  you  bring  Mrs.  Shore  in?  " 

"  No,  no  !  You  must  tell  us  first,  Philip.  Come  ! 
here  is  Mr.  Carey ;  he  's  in  a  most  receptive  state  of 
mind  on  the  subject  of  matrimony.  Are  you  going 
to  reform  marriage  or  abolish  it  ?  " 

"  There  is  room  for  reform,"  he  said ;  then,  as 
though  impatient  at  his  own  evasion,  he  added,  "  I 
was  talking  about  that  man  Todd  and  his  wife.  I 
told  Dr.  Lavendar  I  thought  they  ought  to  be  sepa 
rated." 

Cecil  looked  at  him  in  genuine  astonishment. 
"  Why,  really,  Philip,  I  did  n't  suppose  —  why,  but 
that 's  quite  sensible  !  "  She  was  so  much  in  earnest 
that  she  had  an  instant's  surprise  at  Roger's  invol 
untary  laugh.  "  Why,  but  it  is  sensible,"  she  in 
sisted.  "  I  should  have  supposed  you  would  say  just 
the  other  thing,  Philip.  Of  course  Dr.  Lavendar 
was  dreadfully  shocked  ?  " 

"Yes,  he  didn't  approve  of  me,"  Philip  an 
swered,  pulling  a  red  carnation  down  into  his  button 
hole. 

"  I  can  fancy  Dr.  Lavendar's  dismay,"  Cecil  said 
lightly.  "  I  have  what  might  be  called  a  respectful 
dislike  for  Dr.  Lavendar,  but  I  'm  sorry  for  the  poor 
old  gentleman's  distress.  It  was  too  bad  in  you, 
Philip." 

"  Upon  my  word,  the  Shore  family  needs  a  mis 
sionary,"  Roger  Carey  declared.  "Do  you  remem 
ber  the  night  you  told  me  you  thought  the  little 
Todd  woman  ought  to  leave  her  husband,  Mrs. 


228  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

Shore  ?  I  did  n't  know  that  Philip  shared  your  per 
verted  views." 

Philip  looked  at  his  wife  quickly.  "  You  think 
so,  too  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly  I  do.  I  'm  sorry  to  shock  you, 
Mr.  Carey,  but  I  believe  the  world  would  be  much 
better  off  if  divorce  were  easier.  In  fact,  I  think 
it 's  a  pity  people  have  to  wait  until  they  actually 
come  to  blows  before  they  can  separate." 

"  There  are  blows  and  blows,"  Roger  said,  in 
that  tone  which  meant,  "You  are  charming1,  but 
you  are  not  to  be  taken  seriously."  "  Some 
people's  fists  would  be  luxury  compared  to  other 
people's  tongues." 

"  All  well,"  Cecil  commented,  "  the  great  thing  is 
to  be  able  to  be  articulate  in  one's  woes.  We  are 
too  polite,  even  when  we  use  our  tongues.  The  hus 
bands  and  wives  who  throw  dishes  at  each  other  are 
the  really  happy  people.  They  are  articulate  ;  they 
have  all  the  relief  of  expression." 

"  Might  n't  you  call  it  action  ?  "  Roger  suggested. 

"  You  and  Lyssie  will  never  throw  dishes  at  each 
other,"  Cecil  went  on  gayly,  "  and  you  '11  suffer  ever 
so  much  more  on  account  of  your  repression.  Philip 
(I  never  saw  anybody  so  anxious  for  his  supper !), 
don't  you  think  it 's  a  pity  that  people  have  to  come 
to  blows  before  they  can  separate  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  it's  a  pity,"  Philip  said  dryly. 

But  a  certain  reality  in  his  voice  made  Roger  sud 
denly  interested.  u  Why,  Shore,  do  you  think  di 
vorce  should  be  easier  ?  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  229 

"  Yes ;  I  think  it  would  conduce  to  a  higher  mo 
rality." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  'm  rather  an  extremist,  but 
I  don't  believe  in  divorce  at  all." 

"  Ah,  but  you  've  never  been  married,"  Mrs.  Shore 
reminded  him  drolly. 

He  had  turned  his  shoulder  toward  her,  and  did 
not  notice  her  remark,  even  to  snub  her ;  he  was 
launched  into  discussion,  and  he  cared  more  for  dis 
cussion  than  for  a  pretty  woman.  "  Mind  you,  I 
think  separation  is  desirable  occasionally,  but  never 
divorce.  I  mean,  of  course,  divorce  a  vincido  mat- 
rimonii,  and  the  right  to  marry  again." 

"  Oh,  divorce  is  concession  to  human  nature, 
I  admit,"  said  Philip  ;  "  deplorable,  but  neces 
sary." 

"  Never !  "  Roger  declared,  with  the  joyous  dog 
matism  of  the  man  whose  argument  has  no  personal 
bias.  "  It 's  hard  on  the  innocent,  sometimes  ;  if 
the  law  frees  a  woman  from  a  wretch,  it 's  a  pity 
that  she  can't  marry  some  good  fellow  and  be  happy  ; 
but  the  individual  has  got  to  be  subservient  to  the 
race.  Divorce  seems  to  me  like  suicide,  not  inhe 
rently  or  specifically  wrong,  but  socially  vicious ; 
both  lower  just  a  little  the  moral  tone  of  society. 
Besides,  our  progress  is  in  direct  proportion  to  our 
idea  of  the  sacredness  of  marriage ;  and  even  the 
innocent  must  n't  tamper  with  that  ideal  sacredness. 
They've  got  to  suffer,  —  that 's  all.  It's  a  pity, 
but  they  've  got  to  suffer." 

Philip  shook  his  head.     "  The  idealism  of  the  in- 


230  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

dividual  is  what  lias  made  progress,  and  that  may 
imply  a  theory  of  marriage  which  necessitates  di 
vorce." 

"  Ah,  but,"  cried  Roger,  '<  that 's  just  where  you 
make  your  mistake :  divorce  can't  be  considered 
from  the  individual's  standpoint.  It 's  a  social 
question,  a  race  question.  If  no  man  lives  to  him 
self  or  dies  to  himself,  still  less  does  he  marry  to 
himself ;  and  besides,  abstract  idealism  must  always 
be  subjugated  to  the  needs  of  living." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  it  is  the  individual  con 
science  which  forever  revises  and  corrects  standards ; 
society  is  made  up  of  '  Me's.'  " 

"  '  Me  '  is  a  mighty  selfish  critter,  when  it  comes 
to  this  question  of  divorce,"  Roger  said  quickly. 
"  Lord !  how  I  have  seen  '  Me  '  show  the  cloven  foot 
when  he  was  talking  about  his  wrongs.  Why, 
Shore,  I  believe  that  half  the  time,  when  the  charge 
is  cruelty,  or  drunkenness,  or  —  or  unfaithfulness, 
it's  just  the  expression  of  the  resentment  of  per 
sonal  humiliation  and  mortification.  It's  vanity, 
that 's  what  it  is  !  Sometimes  the  children  are  made 
the  excuse ;  but  I  tell  you,  it 's  Self,  every  time ; 
you  can  see  that  when  '  Me '  goes  and  gets  married 
again.  No,  sir ;  legal  separation  would  answer 
every  purpose." 

"  It  might ;  but  we  are  not  ready  for  it.  Human 
nature  isn't  ready  for  it." 

"  Human  nature  has  had  a  great  deal  too  much  of 
it,  as  it  is  !  "  Roger  asserted  emphatically.  "  Even 
separation  comes  too  easy  here." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  231 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,  I  don't  agree  with  you," 
Philip  said  restlessly. 

"  Why,  but  Shore,"  the  other  persisted,  "  just  see 
where  your  theory  leads  you.  See  what  a  poor, 
cheap  sort  of  thing  it  makes  of  marriage,  —  a  thing 
dependent  on  mood." 

"  It  is  dependent  on  love,"  said  Philip  Shore. 

"  But  is  n't  duty  to  be  considered  ?  Is  n't  there 
to  be  any  effort  to  hold  love  ?  "  Roger  protested. 

Philip  and  Cecil  both  began  to  speak,  and  each 
stopped  for  the  other,  both  with  a  certain  astonish 
ment  in  their  faces  that  they  thought  alike. 

"  Love  has  nothing  to  do  with  effort,"  said  Philip. 

"  It  is  absurd  to  talk  about  the  duty  of  loving," 
Cecil  declared  ;  and  then  there  was  the  look  at  each 
other,  and  Cecil  laughed.  "  Love  is  as  unmoral  as 
art ;  you  can't  talk  about  the  duty  of  loving." 

"Love  may  have  nothing  to  do  with  morality," 
Philip  broke  in,  "  but  it  has  everything  to  do  with 
spirituality.  When  love  has  ceased,  marriage  has 
ceased,  and  separation  should  be  permitted." 

"It  would  certainly  be  more  agreeable,"  Cecil 
said.  "  But  do  you  think  a  man  and  woman,  even 
in  our  class,  should  part  if  they  are  tired  of  each 
other  ?  " 

Roger  Carey  made  some  flippant  remark  about 
"theories."  He  was  exceedingly  uncomfortable 
without  quite  knowing  why. 

Philip's  face,  in  the  dim  light  on  the  porch,  looked 
drawn  and  pale.  "  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by 
a  husband  and  wife  being  4  tired  of  each  other.'  ' 


232  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  Excellent  Philip !  I  mean  bored  to  death. 
Were  you  never  bored?  Being  bored  takes  the 
place  of  having  dishes  thrown  at  you  in  that  state  of 
life  where  it  has  pleased  God  to  call  us.  Well,  do 
«  you  think  such  people  ought  to  part  ?  Heavens ! 
society  would  tremble  to  its  base;  it  would  be  a 
sort  of  puss-in-the-corner,  would  n't  it  ?  Everybody 
would  run  in  every  direction.  Is  that  what  you 
think,  Philip,  really  ?  " 

"  I  think  a  man  and  woman  have  no  moral  right 
to  remain  together  when  they  no  longer  love  each 
other." 

"  Well,  I  believe  I  agree  with  you,"  Cecil  said 
thoughtfully,  —  "if  only  for  the  interest  which  it 
would  impart  to  one's  immediate  circle."  Then  she 
took  Koger's  arm,  while  he,  conscious  and  uncom 
fortable,  declared,  in  a  tone  artificial  even  to  his  own 
ears,  that  they  were  both  wrong. 

"  Absolutely  wrong !  Come  in  and  have  some 
thing  to  eat.  Come  down  to  earth,  Shore,  and 
teach  your  wife  better  sociology.  By  Jove,  though, 
would  n't  the  lawyers  thrive  if  your  views  became 
general !  " 


XVIII. 

O  Conscience,  into  what  abyss  of  fears  and  horrors  hast  thou 
driven  me  ?  —  MILTON. 

"  WHEN  you  get  home,  Cecil,  I  'd  like  to  speak  to 
you,  if  you  '11  be  so  good.  I  won't  detain  you  very 
long." 

Philip  said  this  as  he  helped  his  wife  into  the 
carriage,  at  the  close  of  Miss  Carr's  festivity. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said  crossly.  Her  tolerance  of 
his  scrupulous  politeness  failed  her  for  a  moment. 
In  that  talk  upon  the  porch,  she  had  had,  under 
her  careless  gayety  of  argument,  a  sudden  pas 
sionate  realization  of  the  dreariness  of  her  life.  How 
tired  she  was  of  Philip,  but  how  impossible  —  for 
she  never  dreamed  of  applying  the  theories  she  ad 
vanced  for  Eliza  Todd  to  herself  - —  how  impossible 
was  any  escape  from  such  dreariness !  She  had  a 
bleak  vision  of  the  years  before  her  :  the  years  of 
hearing  him  talk  to  Molly ;  the  years  of  seeing  his 
face  every  day  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table ;  the 
years  of  dull  household  questions,  —  shall  this  horse 
be  bought  ?  shall  that  servant  be  discharged  ?  —  long, 
level,  horrible  years !  She  had  a  swift,  angry  re 
membrance  of  his  "  ways,"  -  —  those  harmless,  un 
conscious  habits  of  the  body  which  go  so  far  toward 
making  the  individual,  and  which  love  finds  half 
touching  and  wholly  dear.  She  recalled  his  way  of 


234  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WJFE. 

cutting  open  the  pages  of  his  stupid  quarterlies  and 
reviews ;  of  absently  twisting  his  mustache  while  he 
read ;  of  pressing  his  lips  together  as  though  to  taste 
his  wine  while  putting  down  his  wineglass :  all  the 
little  mannerisms  of  the  Human  suddenly  filled  her 
with  disgust.  Oh,  how  tired  she  was  of  him  !  Yes, 
plates  as  missiles  would  be  far  more  bearable  than 
this  expanse  of  arid  virtue,  this  monotonous  fault- 
lessness.  His  very  courtesy  at  the  carriage  door 
gave  her  a  feeling  of  irritation. 

"  Get  in  !  "  she  said  impatiently. 

But  he  shook  his  head.  "  I  'm  going  to  walk. 
I  '11  be  at  home  almost  as  soon  as  you  are.  Will 
you  wait  for  me  in  the  library,  please  ?  " 

Then  he  shut  the  door,  and  turned  on  his  heel 
into  the  darkness.  An  hour  before,  the  difficulty  of 
telling  a  woman  (for  Philip,  before  he  was  an  ideal 
ist,  was  a  gentleman)  what  he  thought  of  their  rela 
tion  —  or,  to  put  it  crudely,  the  difficulty  of  telling 
his  wife  'that  he  did  not  wish  to  live  with  her  any 
longer  —  had  appeared  to  him  almost  insurmount 
able.  But  as  he  listened  to  her  there  on  the  porch, 
a  sudden  determination  came  to  him.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  her  carelessness  and  superficiality  seemed 
absolutely  unendurable  ;  or  perhaps  it  was  because 
she  chanced  to  say,  "  I  agree  with  you."  Of  course 
he  knew  that  her  agreement  with  his  proposition 
went  no  deeper  than  the  effect,  and  never  touched 
the  cause.  It  indicated  no  conviction  of  hers,  but  it 
made  it  easier  for  him  to  express  a  conviction  of  his 
own.  He  went  home  through  the  darkness,  too  ab- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  235 

sorbecl  to  notice  the  soft,  fine  rain  that  had  begun  to 
fall.  He  carried  his  stick  behind  him,  gripping  it 
with  both  hands ;  his  head  was  bent,  and  his  lips 
were  hardened  into  a  stern  line ;  his  whole  body 
stooped  forward,  as  though  his  will  and  haste  outran 
his  hurried  stride. 

"  Will  she  consent  to  a  separation  ?  " 
Over  and  over  he  asked  himself  the  question. 
Not  that  he  expected  to  put  his  fate  to  the  touch 
that  night ;  he  only  meant  to  test  this  flimsy  and  ob 
viously  selfish  opinion  of  hers.  Would  it  be  strong 
enough  to  break  down  the  bars  of  convention,  and 
give  him  freedom  ?  He  had  never  a  moment's  hope 
that  it  would  have  in  it  the  strength  of  any  spiritual 
desire  for  freedom  for  herself.  He  had  long  since 
ceased  to  hope  anything  like  that  for  her.  No ;  his 
only  thought  was  that  he  might  use  her  unworthy 
impulse  as  a  means  of  escape  for  his  own  soul. 

When  Philip  Shore  opened  the  door  of  his  library, 
he  found  his  wife  awaiting  him.  Her  face  had 
cleared  in  that  drive  home,  —  it  had  been  so  com 
fortable  among  the  cushions  of  her  carriage;  and 
after  all,  life  cannot  be  absolutely  dreary  when  one 
has  plenty  of  cushions !  She  had  sent  upstairs  for  a 
box  of  candy  when  she  came  in,  and  then  she  went 
into  the  library,  and  sank  down  upon  a  lounge,  half 
reclining,  half  sitting,  her  strong  white  fingers  clasped 
behind  her  head,  and  her  half-shut  eyes  full  of  lazy 
good  nature.  Yes,  things  might  be  worse  ;  and  be 
sides,  everybody  else  was  in  the  same  trap.  It  was 
the  old  miserable  but  mighty  consolation  of  unhappy 


236  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

souls  :  every  one  else  is  involved  in  the  same  calamity ; 
so  bear  it,  make  the  best  of  it,  —  in  fact,  be  as  com 
fortable  as  you  can. 

"  And  things  are  pretty  comfortable,"  she  said  to 
herself.  "  Oh,  what  a  soup  that  was  at  dinner ! 
Jane  must  never  leave  me  if  she  can  make  such  soups. 
She  reconciles  me  to  my  lot."  Then  she  heard  the 
door  open,  and  knew  that  Philip  had  entered. 
"  Well?  "  she  said,  without  turning  her  head. 

Philip  pushed  up  a  chair,  and  sat  down  ;  he  looked 
a,t  her  in  silence.  Cecil  opened  her  eyes,  and  took  a 
piece  of  candy. 

"  It 's  about  John,  I  suppose  ?  Is  n't  it  a  nuisance 
to  have  him  leave  ?  Don't  give  him  a  character ;  it 's 
the  only  way  we  can  retaliate.  Have  you  any  one 
else  in  mind?  " 

"  I  have  spoken  to  him ;  he  will  stay,"  Philip  said 
briefly,  and  then  stopped,  and  looked  down  at  the 
floor  a  moment,  and  drew  in  his  lips.  "  I  want  to 
speak  to  you  of  what  you  said  to-night." 

"  Of  what  I  said  ?  "  Cecil  frowned,  and  tried  to 
remember.  "  Why,  what  did  I  say  ?  Oh,  you  mean 
about  divorce  ?  Oh,  Philip,  now  don't  be  argumen 
tative  at  this  hour!  " 

She  rubbed  her  foot  softly  against  the  lounge,  and 
one  slipper  dropped  with  a  clatter  to  the  floor  ;  then 
she  yawned,  and  stretched  herself  lazily,  and  un 
fastened  the  square  topaz  upon  her  bosom,  loosening 
the  yellow  lace  a  little,  so  that  she  might  feel  the 
cool  air  upon  her  throat.  Her  abandon,  her  comfort, 
her  look  of  enjoying  her  body,  strangely  disgusted 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  237 

him.  He  wanted  to  say  to  her,  "  Sit  up  ;  remember 
you  are  not  alone !  "  He  pushed  his  chair  back,  and 
frowned,  with  lowered  eyes. 

"  Your  —  dress  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  gesture. 

"  No,  I  never  take  cold,"  she  answered.  "  Yes, 
Philip,  I  supposed  for  once  we  agreed ;  but  don't, 
for  Heaven's  sake,  try  to  prove  anything  to  me 
now."  She  laughed  a  little,  and  rubbed  her  eyes. 
4(  I  'm  nearly  dead  with  sleep,"  she  declared. 

"  We  do  agree,"  he  returned  quickly.  "  Only,  it 
seems  to  me  more  than  a  pity  that  a  man  and  wo 
man  must  wait  until  they  come  to  blows,  before  they 
can  separate.  It  seems  to  me  a  sin." 

"  Oh  well,  that 's  as  you  look  at  it,"  said  Cecil, 
with  a  yawn.  "  When  one  says  it 's.  unpleasant, 
one  says  the  whole  thing.  If  that  is  all  you  wanted 
to  tell  me,  Philip,  I  'm  going  to  bed.  Oh,  Philip, 
you  have  so  much  Soul !  isn't  it  fatiguing?  " 

"  Have  you  any  ?  "  he  said,  half  to  himself ; 
"  sometimes  it  seems  as  though  your  soul  had  never 
been  born  !  " 

"  Perhaps  not ;  perhaps  not.  But  who  knows  ?  It 
may  be  twins.  Just  think  how  superior  I  '11  be  then 
to  you.  Don't  be  jealous,  Philip ;  make  a  pincushion 
for  the  poor  little  Soul,  with 4  Welcome  little  stranger ' 
on  it,  won't  you  ?  Oh,  dear,  I  wish  there  was  any 
thing  very  good  to  eat  in  this  house,  —  anything  in 
teresting,  like  mushrooms  and  aspic,  perhaps.  I 
think  I  '11  wake  Jane  and  tell  her  to  find  something 
for  me ;  I  '11  take  bread  and  cheese,  if  there 's 
nothing  else." 


238  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

She  sat  up,  and  moved  her  foot  in  its  thin  silk 
stocking  about  upon  the  floor  to  find  her  slipper  ; 
then  a  sparkle  of  laughter  flew  into  her  eyes.  "  Put 
it  on  for  me,  Philip,"  she  commanded,  and  thrust 
out  a  charming  foot ;  and  as  he,  his  very  fingers 
shrinking,  touched  the  warm,  lithe  ankle  and  put 
the  slipper  on,  she  gave  him  a  little  poke  with  the 
green  satin  toe.  "  You  goose  !  "  she  said  drolly  ; 
but  there  was  contempt  as  well  as  amusement  in  her 
voice. 

He  understood  it,  but  he  replied,  quietly  enough, 
"  There  is  something  more  than  unpleasantness  in 
a  marriage  where  the  husband  and  wife  don't  love 
each  other ;  "  and  then  he  gave  her  a  look  that 
made  the  cojor  sweep  into  her  face.  But  she  was 
too  sleepy  to  lose  her  temper. 

"  If  you  knew  how  perfectly  ridiculous  that 
sounds !  Love !  What  do  you  mean  by  love  ? 
Exchanging  locks  of  hair  and  vows  of  eternal  con 
stancy  ?  " 

"  Hardly." 

"  Well,"  she  answered  slowly,  "  I  don't  believe  in 
love,  —  except  in  maternal  love.  The  other  kind  is 
nothing  but  selfishness." 

"  It  need  not  be." 

"  But  it  is  —  while  it  lasts,"  she  said,  sighing ; 
and  rose,  and  stood  silent  a  moment,  looking  down 
at  the  floor ;  then  she  said  abruptly,  "  You  wanted 
to  say  something,  Philip  ?  I  don't  know  how  we 
got  off  on  this  subject ;  it 's  disagreeable  enough ! 
What  was  it?" 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  239 

"  It  was  of  this  I  wanted  to  speak,"  he  answered, 
rising  also  ;  then  he  took  a  turn  about  the  room,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  and  came  back  to  her.  "  It 
has  been  in  my  mind  a  very  long  time." 

"  What  has  been  in  your  mind  ?  Marriage  or 
love?" 

"  Marriage  without  love." 

"  At  least  that  is  more  respectable  than  love  with 
out  marriage,"  she  said  lazily.  "  Well,  what  about 
it?" 

"  I  doubt  if  it  is  more  respectable." 

"  Good  heavens,  Philip,"  she  remonstrated,  with 
good-natured  amusement,  "  what  on  earth  have  you 
got  hold  of  now?  Is  it  some  plan  for  abolishing 
marriage  ?  You  love  to  reform  things,  don't  you  ? 
But  do  undertake  something  a  little  more  reputable. 
Now  I  must  go  to  bed ;  I  can't  keep  my  eyes  open  a 
minute  longer.  Do  you  want  some  money,  to  print 
pamphlets  about  reforming  marriage,  or  do  you 
want  to  start  a  fund  for  free  divorce,  for  maries  in- 
compris,  so  to  speak  ?  Take  it,  take  it,  —  only  let 
me  go  to  bed  !  "  She  turned  away,  her  hand  on 
the  door-knob.  "  Good-night,"  she  said. 

But  he  stopped  her.  "  We  've  begun  to  speak  of 
this,  let  us  go  on.  I  might  as  well  say  now  —  I 
ought  to  have  said  it  long  ago  —  that  this  is  a  very 
real  and  terrible  question  to  me." 

"  Oh,  Philip,  must  you  be  ecstatic  ?  Consider 
the  hour." 

"  For  God's  sake,  drop  your  flippancy !  "  he  said, 
with  such  sudden  passion  that  she  looked  at  him  ap- 


240  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

prehensively.  Was  he  going  to  have  an  attack  of 
soul  on  the  question  of  marriage ?  "I  think  the 
time  has  come  when  we  must  talk  this  out.  You 
and  I  have  failed  as  husband  and  wife.  Of  course 
we  both  know  that  perfectly  well.  Where  the 
greater  blame  lies  does  n't  matter  now.  The  fact  is 
the  important  thing." 

"  Failed  ? "  Cecil  repeated,  with  that  surprise 
which  is  uncertain  whether  or  not  to  be  anger, — 
"  failed  ?  Do  you  mean  we  don't  love  each  other  ? 
Why,  Philip,  you  are  letting  truthfulness  get  the 
better  of  politeness.  Well,  I  don't  know ;  you  may 
not  love  me,  but  I  —  I  don't  mind  you,  Philip." 
Then  it  occurred  to  her  that  he  wanted  her  love  ; 
was  this  what  he  had  been  leading  up  to  ?  She  felt 
the  color  come  into  her  face  ;  she  was  very  much 
amused,  but  she  was  interested.  His  next  words 
enlightened  her. 

"  You  and  I  can't  talk  of  love.  Forgiveness  is 
all  I  can  ask  you  for.  But  there  's  the  fact,  — 
we  've  failed ;  the  question  is  whether  our  failure 
involves  any  duty." 

She  was  standing  with  her  hands  behind  her, 
leaning  back  against  the  table  ;  the  light  from  the 
lamp  beside  her  gilded  the  long  line  of  her  moss- 
green  gown  from  her  shoulder  to  her  heel ;  the  topaz 
caught  it,  and  gleamed  suddenly,  like  a  watchful 
eye.  Her  face  was  full  of  delicate  color,  and  her 
neck  and  bosom  were  as  white  as  down ;  about  her 
forehead,  warm  still  from  the  cushions  of  the  sofa, 
her  hair  broke  into  shining  rings.  She  caught  a 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  241 

shadowy  glimpse  of  herself  in  the  mirror  between 
the  windows,  and  she  thought,  with  whimsical  con 
tempt,  that  Philip  would  have  been  just  as  indiffer 
ent  to  the  beauty  imaged  there  had  it  belonged  to 
some  other  woman  instead  of  to  his  wife. 

"  Well,"  she  said  scornfully,  "  you  are  perfectly 
absurd  about  some  things,  Philip.  So  long  as  you 
seem  to  be  saying  disagreeable  things,  I  might  as 
well  tell  you  that  you  are  perfectly  absurd.  We 
get  along  as  well  as  most  people.  I  don't  know 
what  you  mean  by  a  duty  that  may  be  involved. 
The  only  duty  I  know  anything  about  is  to  have 
good  manners,  even  though  you  bore  me  to  death. 
And  you  do,  you  know,  Philip,  —  I  'm  sorry  to 
seem  rude,  but  you  have  introduced  truth,  —  you 
do  bore  me  very  much,  sometimes.  What  do  you 
want  me  to  do  ?  Try  and  take  up  love's  young 
dream?  Why  can't  you  reconcile  yourself  to  the 
fact  that  every  marriage  is  a  failure,  in  the  sense 
you  mean  ?  " 

"  Other  people's  marriages  are  not  our  affair,"  he 
answered  harshly ;  "  and  it  is  n't  true,  anyhow. 
But  because  we  are  miserable  we  need  not  blas 
pheme." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that  made  her 
turn  and  face  him.  For  a  moment  there  was  si 
lence  ;  then  she  said,  in  a  very  low  voice,  "  Are  you 
—  are  you  —  making  this  question  of  divorce  per 
sonal  ?  " 

There  was  a  breathless  instant  before  he  answered 
her. 


242  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  How  can  it  be  anything  but  personal,  when 
you  and  I  talk  of  the  immorality  of  a  marriage 
without  love  ?  " 

Cecil  made  no  reply. 

"  You  said,  —  I  don't  know  whether  you  were  in 
earnest,  —  but  you  said  that  you  thought  that  when 
a  husband  and  wife  did  not  love  each  other  they 
ought  to  part." 

Cecil,  her  head  bent  upon  her  breast,  watched  him 
closely,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  I,  also,  think  they  ought  to  part ;  because  a 
marriage  without  love  is  legalized  baseness ;  or  else 
it  is  a  lie." 

Cecil,  looking  up  at  him,  said  distinctly,  "Who 
is  the  woman,  Philip  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her,  with  a  broken  word  of  disgust, 
and  turned  away. 

A  flame  leaped  in  Cecil's  eyes ;  she  stood  upright, 
and  struck  the  table  violently  with  her  clenched 
hand.  "  You  come  to  me,"  she  cried,  her  voice 
tingling  with  passion,  "  to  me,  to  prate  about  the 
sanctity  of  marriage  and  the  duty  of  separation ! 
You  want  to  be  free,  for  reasons  of  your  own,  — 
illegal  baseness,  perhaps  ?  But  no !  You  ?  You 
have  n't  blood  enough  in  your  veins  for  that.  I 
know  you !  Good  heavens,  you  are  not  a  man ! 
But  there  is  some  reason  under  this  fine  talk,  some 
ulterior  motive.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  You  know  better,"  he  said,  between  his  teeth. 

She  laughed  loudly.  "  I  know  there  's  no  woman, 
because  you  have  n't  it  in  you !  But  when  you 


I  trar 

PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  243 

come  here  >and  whimper  about  morality,  I  know 
there  's  some  cold-blooded  reason  behind  it  all.  I  'm 
not  a  fool,  Philip  Shore.  You  put  off  our  marriage 
on  the  ground  of  duty,  —  you  wanted  to  go  to  Paris 
to  study.  You  gave  up  your  art  because  of  duty, — 
you  wanted  to  dabble,  in  your  dilettante  way,  in 
politics.  Now  you  come  and  talk  of  the  duty  of 
divorce  !  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

It  was  terrible  to  see  flash  out  through  the  refine 
ment  of  tradition  and  training  this  loud  vulgarity  of 
soul. 

"  Well,  answer,  answer  !  Can't  you  ?  Of  course 
we  don't  love  each  other  ;  how  could  I  love  you  ? 
But  I  don't  see  what  you  want.  You  are  perfectly 
free ;  you  can  go  to  Paris  and  study  again,  if  you 
want  to!" 

Philip  looked  at  her,  and  looked  away  for  very 
shame  of  what  he  saw ;  under  his  breath  he  said, 
with  sudden  passionate  pity,  "  Oh,  you  poor  soul !  " 
For  an  instant  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  "  But  I 
can't  talk  to  her,"  he  thought  desperately.  Yet 
when  she  said  again,  furiously,  something  of  this 
separation  which  had  existed  in  fact  for  three  years, 
he  tried  to  tell  her,  curtly,  with  averted  eyes,  that 
such  a  condition  was  a  lie. 

"  We  pretend  to  be  married,"  he  said,  "  but  we 
are  separated  ;  we  both  know  it,  but  no  one  else 
knows  it." 

"  And  you  want  it  known  ?  "  she  cried,  —  "  you 
want  to  take  the  world  into  your  confidence  ?  "  She 
was  so  amazed  that  she  forgot  her  anger. 


244  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  We  are  living  a  lie  —  "he  began  ;  but  she  in 
terrupted  him. 

"  Be  explicit,  be  explicit,"  she  said  sternly ; 
"don't  rhapsodize.  You  offer  me  an  insult.  At 
least  state  it  plainly." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  separate,  openly." 

"  Do  you  mean  be  divorced  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  any  legal  steps  are  necessary.  I 
mean  separate.  Stop  profaning  a  sacrament." 

He  seemed  to  her  so  absolutely  preposterous  that 
her  anger  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"  Sit  down ;  there 's  no  use  standing  here  as 
though  we  were  on  the  stage.  You  use  fine  words, 
Philip  ;  I  don't,  though  I  know  the  patois.  I  pre 
fer  the  stupid  truth :  we  're  tired  of  each  other. 
But  there  is  one  thing  you  overlook :  we  are  so  un 
fortunate  as  to  have  been  born  in  a  class  where  a 
prejudice  exists  against  publicity.  We  don't  talk 
of  our  diseases  or  our  infelicities ;  yet  we  have  our 
doctors,  and  though  we  don't  '  separate,'  we  '  travel,' 
—  like  my  dear  papa." 

It  was  a  curious  scene :  these  two,  the  woman  in 
her  lace  and  jewels,  the  man  with  the  red  carnation 
in  his  buttonhole,  with  every  suggestion  about  them 
of  the  reserves,  and  dignities,  and  conventions  of 
living,  standing  there  face  to  face,  speaking  passion 
ately  the  primitive  realities  of  life  !  Cecil  sat  down 
opposite  her  husband  at  the  library  table ;  a  shaded 
lamp  burned  between  them ;  except  for  its  soft  glow, 
the  room,  with  its  book-covered  walls,  was  full  of 
shadowy  dusk.  One  window  was  open,  a  black  ob- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  245 

long  of  rainy  night,  and  through  it  the  smell  of  wet 
leaves  wandered  in  from  the  garden,  and  sometimes 
a  faint,  cool  breath  of  air,  although  there  was  no 
wind ;  there  was  no  sound,  either,  except  for  Philip's 
voice  and  Cecil's  playing  with  a  paper  cutter,  — 
lifting  it  and  letting  it  drop  between  her  fingers,  and 
then  lifting  it  and  dropping  it  again.  She  was  per 
fectly  calm ;  she  rested  her  chin  in  one  hand,  and 
watched  him  closely ;  only,  when  he  came  to  speak 
of  Molly,  her  eyes  blazed.  He  told  her  that  the  ex 
istence  of  tliQ  child  made  their  duty  greater  in  this 
matter.  And  then  he  said  that,  under  circumstances 
such  as  theirs,  neither  father  nor  mother  could  claim 
the  right  to  the  child,  and  therefore,  if  they  should 
decide  to  separate,  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  divide 
Molly's  time ;  they  should  each  have  her  for  half 
the  year. 

When  he  said  this,  his  wife  flung  her  head  back 
and  laughed  silently.  He  saw  it ;  he  sat  there 
speaking  from  the  depths  of  his  soul,  speaking  with 
terrible  restraint,  speaking  as  a  man  speaks  for  his 
life ;  he  saw  the  laugh,  and  knew  what  it  meant. 
The  hopelessness  of  the  situation  *took  him  by  the 
throat.  What  was  the  use  ?  He  had  no  words  ;  he 
and  she  spoke  a  different  language. 

Cecil  tapped  her  lip  with  her  paper  cutte 
thoughtfully.  "  I  can  take  Molly  abroad  to  school, 
I  suppose,  though  she 's  rather  young  for  that." 
She  did  not  even  notice  his  concession;  then  she 
looked  over  at  him,  and  laughed  angrily.  "  You 
hypocrite !  you  have  n't  told  me  the  truth  yet." 


246  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  kind  of  terror.  "  My 
God !  she  cant  understand !  "  he  said,  almost  in  a 
whisper. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  doubt  my  intelligence.  I 
merely  want  to  know  the  object  of  all  this.  What 
is  at  the  root  of  this  passion  for  duty  ?  You  know, 
Philip,  I  have  seen  it  in  you  before.  I  tell  you  that 
I  am  willing  to  travel,  —  so  drop  that ;  now  tell  me 
the  meaning  of  it  all." 

"  Cecil,"  he  said,  with  great  gentleness,  "  you 
know  that  I  have  never  lied  to  you,  and  — 

"Never!"  she  agreed  dryly;  "you  would  have 
been  so  much  more  attractive  if  you  had." 

"  —  so  believe  me,  even  if  you  can't  understand 
me  :  your  proposal  of  a  secret  separation  has  no 
bearing  on  the  purpose  in  my  mind." 

"  It  is,  however,  the  only  ground  on  which  I  will 
consent  to  your  suggestion,"  Cecil  answered  calmly. 
"  I  am  quite  willing  to  travel.  In  fact,  if  it  were 
not  impolite,  I  should  say  that  I  would  be  glad  to 
travel.  Oh,  and  about  Molly.  Of  course  that  is 
perfectly  absurd.  I  should  n't  think  of  giving  her 
up,  —  I  should  nit  think  of  such  a  thing !  " 

The  blood  rushed  into  Philip's  face.  "  What ! 
do  you  think  I  will  allow  you  to  have  her?" 

The  threat  in  his  eyes  made  her  wince,  as  though 
he  were  going  to  strike  her. 

"  I  am  responsible  for  Molly's  soul !  "  he  said  ; 
and  then  into  the  moment  of  tingling  silence  be 
tween  them  came  the  sudden  banging  of  the  front 
door,  and  Roger  Carey's  step  in  the  hall. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  247 

"  Hello,  Eric,  old  man  !  Don't  knock  me  down," 
they  heard  him  say.  "  Shore  !  Philip  !  what  are 
you  burning  the  midnight  oil  for  ?  "  He  whistled, 
and  shoved  the  library  door  open,  and  came  in  and 
saw  them,  the  husband  and  wife  :  Philip,  ghastly 
pale  ;  Cecil,  crimson  and  panting,  her  lips  parted 
for  some  furious  word.  But  in  a  flash  the  vision 
was  gone.  He  heard,  in  his  embarrassed  dismay, 
his  hostess  murmuring  something  about  Lyssie  and 
the  rain,  and  the  voice  of  his  host  declaring  that 
Eric  ought  to  have  been  locked  up  in  the  barn. 
For  his  own  part,  he  was  able  to  observe,  sleepily, 
that  it  was  funny  how  late  twelve  seemed  in  the 
country  ;  and  then  he  said  good-night  with  careful 
unconcern,  and  went  out  and  left  them,  saying  under 
his  breath,  "  Good  Lord !  " 

They  heard  his  door  close  ;  they  heard  the  clock 
in  the  hall  begin  to  strike  twelve.  Cecil  suddenly 
drew  the  lace  together  across  her  throat ;  her  breath 
caught  in  a  sob ;  she  leaned  both  hands  upon  the 
table  and  bent  over  toward  her  husband  ;  the  light 
shone  up  upon  her  trembling  lip,  upon  the  fierce 
tears  in  her  eyes,  upon  the  anger  and  terror  in  her 
face. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  in  a  whisper,  "  we  '11  separate.  I 
agree,  I  agree  !  " 


XIX. 

Ah,  love,  but  a  day, 

And  the  world  has  changed !     i 

The  sun 's  away, 

And  the  bird  's  estranged ; 

The  wind  has  dropped, 
And  the  sky  's  deranged : 

Summer  has  stopped. 

BROWNING. 

ROGER  was  to  go  away  the  next  day,  but  he  did 
not  have  to  start  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  so  he 
and  Lyssie  had  planned  to  take  a  long  walk  in  the 
morning.  They  were  to  go  over  to  the  hills  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river.  There  was  a  road  there 
that  Lyssie  knew,  —  a  road  where  the  grass  grew 
tall  between  the  wheel  ruts,  and  the  wayside  bushes 
pressed  close  upon  the  passer-by,  and  the  trees 
dropped  pleasant  shadows  all  along  the  grassy  track ; 
a  road  where  two  might  walk  very  close  together, 
and  know  that  no  eye  more  curious  than  a  squirrel's 
would  be  apt  to  pry  upon  them ;  the  very  road  for  a 
long  talk,  the  very  place  for  endless  variations  upon 
three  noble  words,  "  I  love  you  !  " 

The  thought  of  having  Lyssie  all  to  himself  for 
a  whole,  still,  sunshiny  morning  enchanted  Roger 
Carey,  and  he  was,  not  unnaturally,  annoyed  to  have 
her  come  downstairs  and  say  that  her  mother  was  so 
fatigued  by  the  party  that  she  had  a  bad  headache. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  249 

"  And  of  course,"  Alicia  ended,  "  I  must  sit  with 
her ;  so  I  can't  go  out  to  walk.  I  'm  so  sorry." 

44  Why,  but  Lyssie !  "  said  Roger  blankly.  "  Why, 
this  is  our  last  chance  for  a  month.  Your  mother 
fatigued  by  the  party?  How  can  she  be  fatigued 
by  the  party  ?  She  didn't  go ;  it 's  just  a  headache, 
and  —  " 

44  Yes,  that 's  all ;  my  going  excited  her,  you 
know." 

44  Can't  Esther  take  care  of  her?  You  seem  to 
forget  that  I  'm  going  away  this  afternoon  !  " 

44  Esther  ?  Esther  can't  take  my  place.  Or  per 
haps  you  think  anybody  can  take  my  place,  sir !  " 

To  contradict  this  gave  Roger  some  pleasure  ;  and 
when  Lyssie,  with  glowing  face,  slipped  out  of  his 
arms,  he  supposed  he  had  gained  his  point.  But  she 
shook  her  head,  and  sighed.  44  Oh,  Roger,  don't 
encourage  me  to  be  selfish.  I  'd  like  to  go ;  that 
shows  you  how  selfish  I  am.  Selfishness  is  my  be 
setting  sin,"  she  informed  him  sadly ;  44  you  ought  to 
help  me  to  be  good." 

44  You  selfish?"  Roger  cried.  44You  are  an  an- 
gel!" 

44 1?  I  am  not  good  at  all  —  if  you  only  knew! 
Why,  Roger,  I  can't  imagine  what  you  ever  saw  in 
me  to  love." 

44  Bless  your  little  heart !  It  was  your  goodness 
that  made  me  love  you.  For  me,  I  'm  like  a  crow 
beside  you." 

Thus  and  thus  the  regal  humility  of  love !  What 
a  pity  it  is  that  so  often,  when  marriage  has  given 


250  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

two  perfect  beings  to  each  other,  admiration  should 
be  exchanged  for  criticism. 

"  You  know,  Lyssie "  (confession  is  delightful 
when  one's  sweetheart  is  the  priest,  and  her  absolv 
ing,  unbelieving,  happy  eyes  look  up  and  smile  de 
nial  of  the  fault  confessed),  "  I  don't  pretend  to  any 
great  goodness,  and  I  have  a  nasty  temper ;  but 
there  is  one  good  thing  about  me :  —  I  am  reason 
able.  I  don't  insist  on  having  my  own  way,  unless, 
as  a  pure  matter  of  reason,  I  know  I  'm  right." 

"  Of  course,"  Alicia  agreed  eagerly.  u  But  then 
you  always  are  right,  Roger." 

Roger  whistled.  "  Lys,  the  king  can  do  no 
wrong.  But  is  it  prudent  to  let  him  know  you 
think  so  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  the  girl  proudly.  "  I  'm  not  afraid 
to  tell  you  all  I  think  of  you.  I  think  nothing  but 
what  is  true.  And  I  see  all  your  faults.  No  one  is 
more  critical  of  you  than  I." 

"  Well,  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  them,"  Roger 
assured  her.  "We'll  talk  of  my  faults  all  the 
morning ;  it  will  take  all  the  morning.  Now  go  and 
get  your  hat ;  it  will  be  too  hot  soon  to  climb  the 
hill." 

"  But  Roger  —  mother  ?  "  Alicia's  smile  vanished. 

Roger  looked  annoyed.  "  Well,  I  'm  sure  she 
wouldn't  want  you  to  stay  at  home  on  her  account?" 

"  I  know  she  would  n't ;  but  it 's  my  duty,  don't 
you  see  ?  " 

"  No.  I  think  you  have  some  duty  to  me :  though 
that  doesn't  seem  to  strike  you." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  251 

"  Oil,  Roger !  "  said  poor  little  Lyssie,  her  eyes 
full  of  reproach.  "Mother  is  ill,  and  you  know 
that  is  very  different  from  just  a  mere  walk." 

"  Well,  of  course,  just  a  mere  walk  with  me,"  he 
began  crossly.  "  You  don't  care  about  it  as  I  do, 
that 's  plain  enough." 

"Roger!" 

"Then  come.  Don't  be  foolish,  Lyssie."  He 
was  beginning  to  lose  his  interest ;  insistence,  after 
a  certain  point,  does  lose  its  interest. 

"  Please  don't  urge  me !  " 

He  drew  back  stiffly.  "  Oh,  certainly  not.  I  sup 
pose  I  may  come  in  after  dinner  and  say  good-by?" 

She  looked  at  him,  and  her  lip  shook. 

"  Oh,  please  !  "  she  said  despairingly. 

But  Roger  turned  on  his  heel,  with  a  concise 
though  unuttered  epithet  in  his  own  mind,  coupled 
with  the  name  of  Mrs.  Drayton. 

"  All  right ;  I  've  nothing  more  to  say.  I  think 
you  are  wrong  ;  but  never  mind.  I  '11  come  in  this 
afternoon  and  say  good-by  before  the  stage  starts. 
I  suppose  you  can  leave  your  mother  long  enough 
for  that  ?  There !  I  'm  a  brute,  Lyssie,  I  'm 
ashamed  of  myself ;  but  you  are  all  wrong,  darling." 

Then,  still  irritated  in  spite  of  being  ashamed  of 
himself,  he  left  her,  and  Lyssie,  after  she  had  swal 
lowed  some  tears,  went  up  and  spent  the  morning  in 
the  darkened  bedroom,  where  the  air  was  heavy  with 
the  sickly  scent  of  cologne,  and  where  she  listened 
to  feeble  sobbings  of  reproach  that  she  had  stayed 
downstairs  so  long.  In  the  afternoon  it  all  came 


252  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

right,  of  course.  Roger  was  repentant  and  Lyssie 
forgiving,  but  somehow  the  parting  was  less  perfect 
than  it  should  have  been.  A  bewildered  dismay 
still  lingered  in  Alicia's  eyes,  and  Roger  was  dully 
unhappy,  with  a  self-reproach  which  took  no  definite 
form ;  he  only  knew  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  his 
unreasonable  temper  in  the  morning. 

Now,  the  stings  of  conscience  are  bad  enough,  as 
everybody  knows,  when  they  are  definite ;  but  when 
the  still,  small  voice  only  mutters,  when  the  stings 
are  wandering  pains  which  refuse  to  localize  them 
selves  and  be  treated,  remorse  is  a  little  more  unbear 
able  by  the  addition  of  bewilderment. 

Roger's  self-reproach  was  connected  with  his  man 
ner  of  spending  the  morning  after  he  left  Alicia. 
Yet  he  could  not  say  why  he  was  dissatisfied  with 
himself.  When  he  tried  to  analyze  his  conduct,  he 
found  nothing  definite  ;  only  a  vague  uneasiness,  an 
intangible  disapproval.  Smarting  at  Lyssie's  slight, 
—  for  so  he  chose  to  consider  it,  —  he  had  gone  back 
to  the  Shores',  meaning  to  make  his  host  entertain 
him.  Philip  had  not  appeared  at  breakfast,  which 
Roger  had  taken  early,  so  that  he  might  be  at 
Alicia's  door  by  nine ;  and  now  he  was  shut  up  in 
his  library,  —  "  very  much  engaged,"  John  said. 

Roger  wondered,  moodily,  if  he  had  not  better 
have  taken  the  morning  stage. 

"I've  stayed  one  day  too  long  in  this  place," 
he  reflected.  He  wished  Mrs.  Shore  would  come 
downstairs ;  he  wanted  to  talk  to  her  of  Lyssie's 
foolish  self-sacrifice ;  not  that  he  meant  to  complain 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  253 

of  Alicia,  but  it  would  be  a  relief  to  say  how, 
for  Mrs.  Dray  ton's  own  sake,  he  wished  Lyssie 
were  wiser  in  her  devotion  to  her  mother.  It  is 
strange  how  rarely  we  recognize  in  ourselves  the 
meaning  of  this  impulse  to  find  fault  with  those 
we  love  to  a  third  person.  We  call  it  sincerity, 
sometimes,  —  sometimes,  duty :  we  are  mightily 
serious  in  our  task  of  justifying  to  ourselves  our 
disloyalty. 

Mrs.  Shore  did  not  appear,  however.  The  day 
seemed  to  Roger  to  stretch  interminably  before  him. 
lie  had  really  nothing  to  do  but  think  how  badly  he 
had  been  treated ;  he  even  said  savagely,  "  Very 
likely  I  've  been  a  fool  to  think  she  cares  for  me  at 
all.  I  don't  know  why  she  should,  of  course."  This 
with  that  angry  humility  which  is  so  amusing  to  the 
persons  who  do  not  feel  it. 

A  little  later,  for  want  of  something  better  to  do, 
he  went  out  into  the  garden,  and  walked  down  to 
the  stone  seat  by  the  pool.  It  was  very  still  here. 
There  was  a  sleepy  blur  of  sunshine  on  the  meadow 
opposite,  where  the  grass  was  scorched  into  fading 
yellow  and  bronze  by  the  August  droughts;  here 
and  there,  a  patch  of  intense,  vivid,  almost  wet  green 
held  its  own  under  the  shadow  of  an  apple-tree  or 
along  the  edge  of  the  water.  There  was  the  drone 
of  bees  in  a  little  border  of  sweet  alyssum,  whose 
faint,  clean  perfume  came  to  him  in  hot,  wandering 
breaths ;  the  shimmering  haze  on  the  water  was 
laced  by  the  noiseless  zigzag  of  dragonflies ;  some 
times  a  yellow  leaf  floated  slowly  down  through  the 


254  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

still  air,  to  make  a  silent  anchorage  on  the  silent 
water.  The  warmth  and  the  play  of  shadows  from 
the  faintly  moving  leaves  above  him  soothed  him,  so 
that,  in  spite  of  his  injured  feelings,  Roger  would  no 
doubt  have  taken  a  nap,  if  Eric,  with  Molly  pulling 
at  his  collar,  had  not  walked  majestically  down  the 
path,  and,  catching  sight  of  his  friend,  poked  a  cold 
nose  under  his  relaxed  hand ;  at  which  Roger  was 
instantly  awake  and  good  natured.  "  You  rascal," 
he  said  affectionately,  taking  the  great,  anxious, 
friendly  face  in  his  two  hands,  "  you  scoundrel,  how 
dare  you  wake  me  up  ?  " 

"  He  would  do  it,"  Molly  explained.  "  I  was 
coming  to  fish  for  crayfish,  an'  he  came.  He  lets 
me  hang  'em  on  his  ears  by  their  pincers.  He 
doesn't  mind." 

"  Do  you  suppose  the  crayfish  mind  ? "  Roger 
asked.  But  that  did  not  interest  Molly.  Instead 
of  discussing  the  feelings  of  the  crayfish,  she  climbed 
up  on  the  seat  beside  him. 

"  Tell  me  a  story." 

"  Don't  know  any,"  said  Roger,  beginning  to  get 
sleepy  again. 

"  Everybody  's  so  unobliging,"  Molly  assured 
him  :  "  mamma 's  awfully  cross,  and  father  won't  let 
me  talk  at  all.  It  is  n't  very  pleasant  for  me,"  she 
ended  sadly. 

"  Well,  perhaps  you  'd  better  go  and  make  it 
pleasant  for  the  crayfish,"  Roger  suggested,  yawn 
ing.  Then  he  looked  at  his  watch,  and  discovered 
that  it  was  only  ten  minutes  past  eleven.  "  Con- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  255 

found  it !  "  he  said.  "  Molly,  where  is  your  father? 
In  the  library  still?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Maybe  he  is.  Father  was  out 
of  doors  all  last  night,  walking  and  walking  around 
in  the  rain.  Rosa  told  me  so.  John  told  her.  And 
I  told  mamma,  and  she  said  —  " 

"  Never  mind !  "  Roger  broke  in  hastily. 

And  Molly,  with  great  cheerfulness,  changed  the 
subject.  "  I  '11  show  you  something,  Mr.  Carey,  — 
something  I  've  got  in  a  box  in  my  pocket.  Want 
to  see  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  much,"  said  poor  Roger  ;  but  did  n't 
Molly  think  she  'd  like  to  catch  some  crayfish  ?  And 
then,  with  an  eye  to  the  interrupted  nap,  he  made 
several  suggestions  for  her  diversion  :  Rosa  ?  The 
nursery  and  her  paper  dolls  ?  "  That  would  be  de 
lightful,"  he  said,  with  insidious  enthusiasm.  "  Just 
think !  playing  with  those  nice  dolls  in  the  nursery. 
Dear  me  !  how  pleasant  that  would  be." 

u  It 's  pleasaiiter  with  you,"  Molly  informed  him, 
hugging  him  with  much  affection  ;  and  Roger  sighed, 
and  said,  "  Well,"  and  submitted  to  many  caresses, 
and  showed  his  watch  and  Lyssie's  picture,  and 
yawned  a  good  deal. 

"  What 's  in  the  mysterious  box  ?  "  he  asked. 

And  Molly,  her  little  face  very  serious  and  eager, 
took  a  small  ring-box  from  her  pocket  and  shook  it 
close  against  his  ear.  "  Guess  !  " 

"  A  rocking-chair  ?  "  said  Roger. 

"  Why,  there  could  n't  be  a  rocking-chair  in  this 
little  box,  Mr.  Carey.  Guess  again." 


256  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Can't  imagine.     Show  us." 

Molly,  twinkling  with  excitement  and  the  pleasure 
of  giving  pleasure,  opened  the  box  a  very  little 
way.  "  Look  !  it 's  my  tooth.  Eosa  pulled  it  yes 
terday." 

"  Great  Cesar's  ghost !  " 

"  I  thought  I  'd  keep  it  for  the  Resurrection," 
Molly  explained  shyly. 

"  Oh,  you  '11  have  nice  false  teeth  by  that  time, 
Molly,"  Roger  told  her  gravely. 

"  Well,  but  God  will  know  where  this  is,  if  I  keep 
it  in  my  pocket,"  the  child  said  simply,  and  grew  red 
and  resentful  when  Roger  laughed  long  and  loud. 
He  was  so  wide  awake  now  that  he  suggested  they 
should  hunt  somebody  up. 

"  Come  and  see  if  your  mother  is  downstairs  yet. 
Have  you  told  her  about  the  Resurrection?  " 

Molly  replied  coldly,  "  No  ;  father  knows."  But 
her  little  anger  burned  out  in  a  moment,  and  she 
was  eager  and  confidential  again.  "  Let 's  go  up  to 
the  porch.  I  guess  mamma  's  on  the  porch  by  this 
time.  Mamma  said  maybe  she  'd  take  me  to  Europe 
in  a  ship  ;  but  father  is  n't  coming.  Father  is  go 
ing  to  stay  at  home." 

"  By  Jove !  "  Roger  thought,  with  real  concern, 
"  has  their  squabble  gone  as  far  as  that  ?  "  He 
found  himself  thinking  what  Cecil  must  be  in  a  pas 
sion  ;  and  his  eyes  brightened  a  little  and  his  jaw 
set. 

When  he  and  Molly  reached  the  house,  and  found 
Mrs.  Shore  on  the  porch,  he  was  full  of  interest  in 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  257 

her.  It  is  very  subtle,  but  it  is  very  real,  that  in 
terest  which  a  man  feels  in  a  woman  who  is  quarrel 
ing  with  her  husband.  Perhaps  it  is  because,  when 
a  woman  marries,  she  shuts  the  door  of  her  possibil 
ities  ;  but  when  she  quarrels  with  her  husband,  she 
opens  it  a  little,  and  archly  peers  out  again  into 
men's  faces,  if  only  for  a  moment. 

Cecil  hardly  looked  at  Koger  when  he  came  up 
the  steps,  Molly  dragging  at  his  hand,  and  Eric  close 
to  his  heels.  She  was  sitting  in  a  big  reclining- 
chair  which  was  full  of  yellow  cushions ;  the  old 
bamboo,  smooth  as  golden  lacquer,  yielded  to  every 
movement,  and  was  as  absolutely  comfortable  as 
even  Cecil  could  desire.  Generally,  when  she  sat 
thus  on  the  porch,  with,  very  likely,  some  deeply 
fragrant  flowers  at  her  elbow,  she  had  an  air  of  ab 
solute,  delicious  comfort,  the  luxurious  satisfaction 
one  sees  in  an  animal  basking  in  the  sunshine.  But 
to-day  she  was  unconscious  of  her  comfort,  appar 
ently ;  a  dull  anger  was  smouldering  in  her  eyes, 
and  there  was  a  heavy  look  about  them  as  of  fierce, 
unshed  tears.  Now,  in  a  weak  woman  a  man  finds 
the  hint  of  tears  repulsive  ;  but  in  a  strong  woman 
they  rouse  only  a  consciousness  of  his  own  strength, 
or  a  leaping  impulse  of  tenderness.  Her  sullenness 
bites  into  his  thought  like  some  teasing,  stimulating, 
exquisite  pain.  He  would  like  at  once  to  comfort 
and  to  hurt  her. 

Eoger,  sitting  down  beside  her,  had  no  longer  any 
inclination  to  resent  Alicia's  slight.  In  Cecil's 

o 

presence  it  seemed  too  small,  too    silly.      He  half 


258  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

smiled  at  himself  for  having  felt  it.  Alicia,  with 
her  droll  little  obstinacy,  was  only  a  child,  after  all, 
so  ignorant,  so  foolish,  and  so  sweet !  He  felt  that 
he  loved  her  very  much,  and  might  therefore  say  to 
Mrs.  Shore  this  and  that  of  her  sister's  fantastic 
idea  of  duty. 

Yes,  yes,  it  was  a  great  pity  that  Mrs.  Drayton 
should  have  had  a  headache  that  morning ! 

Cecil  made  but  little  response.  Roger,  disap 
pointed,  but  desiring  sympathy,  found  himself  invit 
ing  it  by  a  hint  of  his  conviction  that  "  votre  belle 
mere  "  -  this  with  a  hesitating  look  at  Molly  —  was 
very  —  he  supposed  it  was  the  result  of  illness,  but 
she  was  not  what  one  might  call  unselfish  ? 

"  Scarcely,"  said  Mrs.  Shore. 

Roger  felt,  resentfully,  that  he  had  been  encour 
aged  to  express  an  unworthy  sentiment,  and  now  his 
instigator  stepped  from  under,  as  it  were,  and  de 
clined  responsibility.  "  At  least,  you  have  given  me 
that  impression,"  he  added. 

"  The  woman  tempted  you  ?  "  Cecil  commented. 

"  It 's  a  way  she  has  had  from  the  beginning," 
Roger  declared  more  good  naturedly,  and  added 
frankly,  "  It  was  shabby  in  me  to  say  that ;  the  fact 
is,  I  suppose,  I  am  out  of  temper  because  I  lost  my 
walk." 

Cecil  showed  no  interest  in  his  penitence.  She 
looked  sullenly  straight  in  front  of  her  ;  she  an 
swered  shortly,  "  yes "  or  "  no,"  when  he  went  on 
talking ;  she  seemed  to  shrink  a  little  as  though 
she  were  half  afraid  of  him  when  he  brought  his 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  259 

chair  to  her  side.  But  after  a  while,  quite  suddenly, 
and  with  a  curious  fierceness,  she  turned,  and  began 
to  talk  with  a  recklessness  which  Roger  had  never 
before  seen  in  her ;  it  was  as  though  she  had  slipped 
some  leash  which  had  been  holding  her  back.  She 
said  she  was  sorry  he  was  going  away ;  that  Lyssie 
had  been  very  foolish  not  to  walk  with  him  ;  that 
Mrs.  Drayton  was  really  "  impossible."  In  fact,  she 
condoled  with  him  so  warmly  upon  his  prospective 
mother-in-law  that  he  grew  uncomfortable. 

"  Mrs.  Drayton  has  a  talent  for  tears,"  she  said, 
"  and  Lyssie  believes  in  them.  Is  n't  it  funny  ?  " 

"  Well,  weakness  is  a  great  bully  without  know 
ing  it,"  Roger  defended  Alicia's  mother,  "  and  she  's 
in  wretched  health,  you  know." 

Molly,  lounging  on  Roger's  knee,  announced  that 
mamma  said  that  grandmamma  was  as  well  —  oh,  as 
anybody,  if  she  just  would  n't  pretend  to  be  sick. 
At  which  Cecil  laughed,  but  Roger  said  abruptly, 
"  You  ought  n't  to  let  that  child  know  how  you  feel !  " 
and  Cecil,  sobering,  winced  at  his  tone. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  n't,"  she  acknowledged. 
"  Molly,  never  say  anything  about  grandmamma  that 
mamma  has  said.  Will  you  remember  ?  1  'm  very 
fond  of  her." 

"  You  're  making  fun." 

"  You  naughty  little  girl ! "  cried  Cecil,  much 
amused.  "  Of  course  I  love  grandmamma,  and  so 
must  you;  remember  you 've  only  one  grandmother, 
so  you  must  make  the  most  of  her,  and  love  her 
very  much." 

T:\BRA7T? 


OF  THK 
TTTvTTTTT-'- 


260  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Oh,  she 's  only  a  step,"  said  Molly,  with  con 
tempt.  "  Step-grandmothers  don't  count." 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  her  ? "  said  Cecil,  in 
despair. 

"  Your  sin  has  found  you  out !  "  Roger  commented 
significantly. 

But  his  reproof  annoyed  her,  and  she  dropped  the 
subject  of  Mrs.  Dray  ton. 

"  Is  n't  it  funny  how  they  understand  the  things 
we  don't  say  ?  "  she  said.  "  Really,  we  ought  to  con 
verse  in  another  language  after  children  are  five 
years  old." 

"  Would  n't  it  be  just  as  well  to  let  the  Young 
Person  have  a  reforming  effect  upon  our  conversa 
tion?" 

"  It  would  be  a  little  dull." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  he  admitted ;  and  added  that  then, 
probably,  slander  and  impropriety  would  become 
extinct. 

"  That  would  be  dull !  "  Cecil  said. 

Roger  looked  at  her  thoughtfully.  "  Why  do  you 
say  things  like  that  ?  You  don't  mean  them. 
And—" 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  I  think  they  are  rather  silly,"  he  ex 
plained  cheerfully.  "  Would  you  mind  if  I  lighted 
a  cigar,  Mrs.  Shore  ?  " 

Again,  as  a  dozen  times  during  these  last  six 
weeks,  his  indifference  touched  her  like  some  fine 
and  stinging  lash.  She  colored,  and  defended  her 
self  gayly,  but  with  an  undertone  of  eagerness.  She 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  261 

was  full  of  that  spirited  docility  which  is  so  flattering 
to  a  man ;  she  wanted  to  know  his  opinion  on  a 
dozen  topics,  and  yet  she  had  her  own  opinions,  and 
held  them  with  a  charming  and  feminine  insistence, 
which,  however,  being  always  based  upon  intelligence, 
put  her  companion  on  his  mettle.  He  grew  keen  and 
interested.  He  overlooked  his  grievances.  He  did 
not  have  to  forgive  Lyssie  :  he  forgot  her.  Perhaps 
the  spiritual  as  well  as  the  material  world  has  its 
spring  and  autumn,  its  summer  and  winter,  its  sea 
sons  of  alert  life,  its  time  when  virtue  hibernates. 
It  would  seem  so  when  one  watches  the  hardening-  of 

O 

a  sensitive  honor,  the  wavering  lassitude  of  a  hith 
erto  robust  conscience. 

But  to  the  vigorous  soul  the  approach  of  such 
torpidity  is  attended  with  more  or  less  discomfort. 
Roger,  thinking  this  talk  over  afterwards,  was 
vaguely  uncomfortable ;  he  could  not  put  his  finger 
on  any  one  thing  that  he  wished  he  had  not  done, 
unless  indeed  it  were  his  first  impatient  speech  about 
Mrs.  Drayton.  But  he  had  apologized  for  that,  and 
defended  her  ;  he  had  overcome,  yes,  even  forgotten, 
his  resentment  at  Alicia.  To  be  sure,  he  had  seen 
with  a  fierce  appreciation  the  whiteness  of  Cecil 
Shore's  throat,  the  color  of  her  lip :  he  would  have 
been  a  fool,  or  blind,  not  to  have  seen  them ;  and  they 
certainly  had  not  prevented  him  from  giving  her  a 
piece  of  his  mind,  once  or  twice,  in  good,  hard  words. 
She  had  looked  tired  and  unhappy,  and  he  had  been 
sorry  ;  it  would  have  been  brutal  not  to  be  sorry. 
Lyssie  would  have  been  the  first  to  wish  him  to  be 


262  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

sympathetic.  .  No,  he  had  not  a  thing  with  which  to 
reproach  himself  ;  yet  he  felt  dull  and  irritable  ;  he 
was  inclined  to  blame  everybody  about  him,  which  is 
a  state  of  mind  characteristic  of  an  uneasy  conscience. 
He  looked  back,  in  his  thoughts,  to  the  disappoint 
ment  of  the  morning,  and  wished  that  Alicia  had 
just  a  little  less  of  that  feminine  obstinacy  in  the  mat 
ter  of  duty  which  is  so  aggravating  to  the  masculine 
mind,  —  unless  indeed  the  feminine  idea  of  duty  and 
the  masculine  idea  of  comfort  chance  to  be  synony 
mous.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  hoped  she  was 
not  going  to  be  like  her  mother.  Now  this  is  a 
most  significant  wish  in  an  engaged  man,  and  one 
which,  if  he  is  wise,  will  turn  him  to  examining  the 
quality  of  his  love. 

When  he  went,  later  in  the  day,  to  say  good-by  to 
Lyssie,  Roger  was  very  penitent  for  his  crossness  of 
the  morning,  and  confessed  it  humbly  enough  ;  for 
even  the  reasonableness  of  his  position  did  not  excuse 
crossness,  he  said. 

But  his  penitence  did  not  lighten  his  conscience 
of  an  uncommitted  fault. 


XX. 

Nothing  in  life  is  more  remarkable  than  the  unnecessary  anxiety 
which  we  endure,  and  generally  occasion  ourselves. 

BEACONSFIELD. 

OLD  CHESTER  liked  Roger  Carey  and  approved  of 
him ;  although,  indeed,  one  involved  the  other,  for 
Old  Chester  never  did  anything  so  ill  judged  as  to 
like  where  it  could  not  approve.  But  even  though 
Roger  had  won  regard,  his  departure  had  not  been 
entirely  a  regret.  A  love  affair  is  a  pretty  thing  to 
watch,  but  there  are  other  matters  in  the  world  ; 
Miss  Susan  Carr  said  she  should  be  glad  when 
Lyssie  could  put  her  mind  on  her  choir-practicing 
again ;  Dr.  Lavendar  felt  that  one  or  two  f amilies  in 
the  upper  village  needed  visiting  ;  and  as  for  Mrs. 
Drayton  —  but  Mrs.  Drayton's  opinion  can  easily  be 
taken  for  granted.  She  did,  however,  confide  to  her 
step-daughter  that  she  had  been  very  much  upset  by 
the  engagement. 

"  I  have  been  shaken  by  it ;  much  shaken,"  she 
said.  "Of  course,  I  have  not  had,  have  not  ex 
pected,  my  usual  comforts  ;  but  then  I  Ve  been  glad 
to  contribute  my  discomfort  to  Lyssie's  happiness. 
It  is  a  little  bitter  to  think  that  a  poor,  miserable, 
useless  invalid  like  me  has  nothing  to  give  except 
discomfort." 

fl| 

"  At  least,  your  contribution  has  been  unstinted," 


264  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Cecil  said  sweetly  ;  but  her  face  was  dull,  and  she 
turned  away  from  her  step-mother,  feeling  for  once 
no  desire  to  torment  her. 

It  was  the  morning  after  Roger  had  gone.  Cecil 
was  very  restless ;  she  came  down  to  see  Lyssie  for 
the  mere  occupation  of  moving  about. 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  get  rid  of  him !  "  she 
thought  once  or  twice.  To  have  company  at  such  a 
crisis  as  had  come  into  her  life  might  well  seem  in 
tolerable.  It  was  no  wonder  that  she  drew  a  deep 
breath  and  said,  "  Thank  Heaven,  he  's  gone  !  "  and 
braced  herself  for  the  struggle  which  was  at  hand. 
Yet  she  was  restless.  "  One  is  always  restless  when 
one's  company  goes,"  she  explained  to  herself. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  with  the  departure  of  her 
guest  departed  also  those  commonplaces  which  pad 
the  sharpnesses  of  life  to  us  all.  The  necessary 
smile,  the  formal  gayety,  the  mere  requisites  of  eat 
ing  and  drinking,  cover  decently  many  things,  among 
the  rest  that  naked  and  primal  passion  which  under 
lies  existence  ;  a  passion  which,  smouldering  long, 
had  sprung  into  flame  in  that  talk  between  the  hus 
band  and  wife,  —  the  passion  of  self-preservation, 
with  its  terror  and  bitterness  and  horrible  intensity. 
Cecil  may  have  missed  the  comfort  of  the  common 
place,  or  she  may  have  missed  the  man,  with  his  daily 
revolt  of  impetuous  indifference,  followed  by  the 
flattery  of  his  daily  subjugation.  But  she  did  not 
stop  to  analyze  her  state  of  mind  ;  in  fact,  in  those 
next  few  terrible  days  —  days  of  discussion,  of  in- 
crimination,  of  violent  disagreement  about  Molly  on 

t  t 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  265 

the  part  of  the  husband  and  wife  —  she  forgot  every 
thing  except  the  lust  of  strife.  Yet  she  had  felt  the 
vague  and  restless  discomfort  of  missing  a  man 
whom  she  had  known  but  a  little  while ;  a  man  who 
was  her  sister's  lover. 

There  was,  however,  nothing  apparent  in  the  rela 
tions  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shore  which  could  start  a 
ripple  of  excitement  in  Old  Chester.  They  met  once 
a  day  at  the  dinner  table,  with  Molly  sitting  chatter 
ing  between  them  ;  themselves  quite  silent  to  each 
other.  This  gave  no  particular  ground  for  com 
ment  ;  the  maids  only  said,  "  She  's  got  the  sulks 
again,"  and  Philip's  man  remarked  that  he  was  "  a 
fool  not  to  settle  her." 

Of  course,  alone,  they  did  talk,  these  two.  Neither 
spared  any  truth  to  the  other.  It  is  only  when  they 
are  husband  and  wife  that  two  human  souls  can 
achieve  absolute  cruelty. 

But  until  they  were  able  to  agree  upon  something, 
it  was  obviously  best  to  keep  up  appearances ;  and 
so  they  saw  each  other  at  dinner  every  night,  and 
listened  to  Molly,  and  talked  to  her,  and  despised 
each  other.  For,  oddly  enough,  now  that  Philip  had 
put  his  desire  into  words,  his  feeling  for  his  wife 
dropped  to  a  lower  plane.  He  recognized  this,  but 
said  to  himself  that  it  was  because  of  what  she  re 
vealed  of  herself  in  these  terrible  interviews ;  the 
subtlety  of  his  meeting  her  upon  the  lower  ground  of 
self-interest  escaped  him. 

Each  was  fighting  for  the  possession  of  the  child. 
Philip  stood  by  his  first  opinion,  that  Molly  should 


266  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

spend  half  of  the  year  with  each  of  them  ;  Cecil  vio 
lently  refused  to  listen  to  such  a  proposition :  and 
there  the  matter  stood,  while  the  long,  still  August 
days  faded  into  the  yellow  haze  of  September. 

Meantime,  the  excitement  about  Lyssie  having 
subsided,  life  in  Old  Chester  slipped  back  into  its 
ordinary  channels  of  sleepy  self-satisfaction.  Even 
at  the  rectory  the  tension  had  relaxed  a  little.  Mr. 
Joseph  was  still  uncertain  about  Mr.  Pendleton's 
will ;  to  be  sure,  he  might  have  found  out,  but  the 
idea  of  going  to  the  probate  court  to  make  the  ne 
cessary  examination  offended  him.  Dr.  Lavendar, 
aware  that  at  least  the  momentous  question  had  not 
been  asked,  was  very  conciliatory,  and  full  of  con 
versation  about  Miss  Susan  Carr.  Mr.  Joseph  ac 
cepted  the  friendliness,  and,  when  he  came  home  on 
Saturdays,  walked  in  the  garden  at  sunset  and  looked 
at  the  hollyhocks,  just  as  usual ;  but  his  kind  heart 
knew  its  own  bitterness.  Yet  with  the  bitterness 
was  a  strange,  new  happiness,  for  with  opposition 
his  mild  regard  for  Mrs.  Pendleton  had  begun  to 
glow  and  deepen ;  and  faintly,  like  the  thrill  of 
spring  in  November  sunshine,  the  ardors  of  youth 
and  love  began  to  stir  in  his  blood.  He  thought  of 
his  weekly  visit  to  Old  Chester  with  a  perceptible 
heart-beat ;  and  when  he  walked  home  with  her  from 
the  choir-practicing,  there  was  a  haze  before  his  eyes 
that  hid  the  wrinkles  about  Mrs.  Pendleton's  temples, 
the  sharp  lines  around  her  tight  little  mouth,  the 
shrewdness  of  her  light  eyes;  he  saw  again  the 
plump  girl,  silly  and  silent,  who,  twenty  years  before, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  267 

blushing  and  giggling,  slid  into  an  engagement  and 
out  of  it  without  a  quicker  heart-beat  or  falling  tear. 

uOld  Chester,"  said  Mr.  Joseph,  upon  one  of 
these  occasions,  as  they  paced  along  together  in  the 
pleasant  September  dusk,  "  is  very  fortunate  to  have 
such  an  addition  to  its  social  circle  this  winter  as 
you  will  be,  ma'am.  We  are  somewhat  narrow,  I 
fear,  and  need  widening." 

"Exactly  !  "  Mrs.  Pendleton  agreed. 

"  I  assure  you,  I  feel  it  a  privilege  to  return  to 
Old  Chester  from  the  less  agreeable,  if  more  worldly 
life  of  Mercer,"  Mr.  Lavendar  continued. 

"  But  I  suppose  the  stage  journey  tries  you  a 
good  deal  as  you  grow  older  ?  "  Mrs.  Pendleton  said 
sympathetically. 

Mr.  Joseph  looked  dashed,  though  only  for  a 
moment.  "  I  am  older,"  he  said,  "  in  one  way,  but 
not,  my  dear  —  Mrs.  Pendleton  —  in  every  way. 
My  heart,  as  the  poet  says,  is  ever  young,  ever 
young ;  and  I  think  he  adds,  fresh.  Of  that,  how 
ever,  I  am  not  certain." 

But  Mrs.  Pendleton  preferred  to  talk  about 
Mercer  rather  than  about  Mr.  Lavendar's  heart. 
"  I  suppose  (not  that  I  am  inquisitive  ;  I  have  no 
curiosity,  but  I  'm  so  impulsive  that  I  speak  just 
what  comes  into  my  mind),  —  I  suppose  your  income 
must  be  quite  large,  for  you  to  live  in  Mercer?  " 

Her  interest  in  him  touched  him  very  much. 
"  No,  ma'am,  no  ;  not  large,  but  sufficient ;  and  we 
expect  it  to  be  greatly  augmented  when  my  brother's 
book  is  published." 


268  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Mr.  Lavendar's  heart  was  beating  tumultuously ; 
a  declaration  trembled  upon  his  lips,  but  the  curb  of 
honor  held  it  back.  He  must  know  about  that  will 
first.  With  admirable  self-restraint  he  tried  to  talk 
of  less  personal  things,  —  the  choir,  the  weather, 
the  difference  of  the  seasons  now  and  in  his  youth  ; 
and  that  led  Mrs.  Pendleton  to  remark  that  she  and 
Susy  Carr  were  soon  coming  to  Mercer  to  do  some 
autumn  shopping.  "  Wednesday  a  week  we  are 
coming,"  she  said  ;  and  Mr.  Joseph  asked  eagerly  if 
he  might  have  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  them  in 
town,  and  escorting  them  to  the  shops.  Mrs.  Pen- 
dleton  consented,  with  a  neat  smile,  and  he  left  her, 
determined  to  learn  at  once  whether  he  were  "free" 
to  address  her.  "  For  I  may  have  a  chance  in  Mer 
cer,"  he  thought,  palpitating. 

This  visit  to  Mercer  had  been  arranged  nearly  a 
month  before,  when  Susan  Garr,  in  one  of  those  mo 
ments  of  rash  good  nature  common  to  us  all,  had 
promised  to  "  shop  "  with  Mrs.  Pendleton.  When 
the  day  of  fulfillment  came,  Miss  Susan  was  as  mis 
erable  as  we  all  are  when  our  amiable  weaknesses 
come  home  to  roost.  The  night  before  the  fatal 
Wednesday  she  looked  hopefully  at  a  threatening 
sky ;  but  the  morning  was  full  of  placid  sunshine, 
and  she  sighed,  and  said  to  herself,  "  Well,  Susan 
Carr,  it 's  your  own  fault !  "  which  comforted  her 
as  much  as  such  statements  usually  do.  She  thought 
of  all  the  things  to  be  done  upon  the  farm  ;  all  the 
things  she  might  do  about  the  house  ;  nay,  even  the 
books  she  would  read,  the  letters  she  would  write,  if 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  269 

only  she  could  stay  at  home.  For  there  is  perhaps 
no  moment  when  we  so  much  appreciate  our  homes 
as  the  moment  of  departure  from  them  upon  some 
rashly  accepted  invitation. 

Miss  Susan  put  on  a  short,  stout  skirt,  for  she 
could  not  endure  the  thought  of  any  clothing  of  hers 
touching  those  nasty  streets  ;  and  her  oldest  bonnet, 
because  the  stage  ride  was  dusty  ;  and  her  water 
proof  cloak,  for  fear  it  might  rain.  Then  she  took 
down  from  the  top  shelf  in  the  spare-room  wardrobe 
a  large  bag  with  "  Susy "  worked  011  one  side  in 
brown  and  yellow  worsteds :  this  was  to  be  filled  with 
the  commissions  with  which  she  had  taken  kindly 
pains  to  burden  herself.  "  Can  I  do  any  shopping 
for  you  in  Mercer  ?  "  she  had  asked  everybody  ;  and 
the  result  was  that  when  she  climbed  into  the  coach 
with  Mrs.  Pendleton,  she  was  naming  over  on  her 
fingers  a  dozen  errands  for  other  people. 

"  Lilac  ribbons  for  Fanny  Dray  ton's  wrapper  ; 
patterns  of  red  flannel  for  the  Sewing  Society  ;  six 
silk  handkerchiefs  for  Jane  Temple's  Mr.  Dove  —  I 
think  I  must  write  the  others  down,"  said  Miss 
Susan,  "  or  else  I  '11  forget  'em." 

"  Exactly,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  agreed. 

Mrs.  Pendleton  looked  very  pretty  :  her  bonnet 
had  fine  hemstitched  lawn  strings  like  a  clergyman's 
bands  ;  her  hair  came  down  in  sleek  waves  upon  her 
pink  cheeks  ;  her  round,  fresh  face  was  rounder  and 
fresher  for  the  spreading  black  veil  that  seemed  to 
take  up  a  great  deal  of  room ;  a  stiff  fold  even 
touched  Miss  Susan's  cheek  now  and  then,  or  fell 


270  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

forward  in  a  wiry  shade  across  the  little  window  of 
the  coach.  Mrs.  Pendleton  took  very  good  care  of 
her  crape  ;  she  had  been  heard  to  say  that  she  had 
never  let  a  tear  fall  on  that  veil,  for  fear  of  spotting 
it;  she  said  that  spotted  crape  was  pure  carelessness, 
and  a  disrespect  to  the  dead.  She  plaited  the  hem 
gently  between  her  fingers  as  she  answered  Miss 
Susan :  — 

"  Yes,  it's  a  very  good  plan  to  write  things  down; 
I  always  do,  and  especially  to-day.  I  've  so  many 
things  to  think  of."  She  sighed  as  she  spoke; 
"  I  'm  going  to  lighten." 

"Lighten?" 

"  Exactly  ;  —  my  grief.  And  there  is  so  much 
to  see  to,  for  everything  must  be  consistent.  You 
must  n't  have  a  black-bordered  handkerchief  when 
you  take  off  your  veil ;  and  it  *s  the  same  with 
gloves,  —  they  must  be  stitched  with  white.  I  think, 
in  such  a  matter,  one  should  always  be  consistent." 

Miss  Susan  said  she  supposed  so. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,  yes  ;  and  I  Ve  had  so  much  expe 
rience  in  it !  I  was  in  lilacs  for  my  dear  mother 
when  my  dear  father  died,  and  of  course  I  went  at 
once  into  crape  ;  and  I  'd  hardly  gotten  into  half 
again  when  aunt  Betty  went,  and  that  set  me  back 
with  jets,  —  no  crape.  I  was  married  when  I  'd 
just  begun  to  wear  black  and  white,  and  had  put  my 
note  paper  into  a  narrow  edge,  —  just  for  an  aunt, 
you  know,  —  and  then  my  dear,  dear  husband  !  " 

Miss  Carr  looked  sympathetic. 

"  Of  course,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  ended,  drying  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  271 

eyes  on  a  handkerchief  still  in  grief,  "  then  I  was  in 
black  all  through ;  I  did  n't  wear  a  white  collar 
for  three  months  ;  even  my  petticoats  were  black 
lawn,  I  do  assure  you." 

Miss  Susan  murmured  something  appropriate,  and 
sighed.  Susan  Carr  had  lived  too  long  not  to  know 
that  grief,  that  most  precious  possession,  subsides ; 
not  to  know  that  there  is  a  pathetic  instant  when 
the  mourner  recognizes  that  life  still  holds  some  in 
terest  for  him;  that  the  world  is  still  beautiful, 
though  but  a  year  ago  —  nay,  a  month  ago  —  he 
had  thought  it  but  the  blackness  of  darkness !  It  is 
an  instant  of  terror,  of  remorse,  and  of  fearful  joy. 
Susan  Carr  knew  this ;  and  she  looked  at  the 
widow  with  that  pity  for  the  little  creature's  little 
ness  which  only  large  and  tender  souls  can  feel, 
—  for  this  strange  moment  had  come  very  soon  to 
Mrs.  Pendleton. 

It  was  a  pleasant  September  day  :  there  was  a 
scent  of  wood  smoke  in  the  still  air ;  in  the  fields 
along  the  turnpike  road  the  corn  had  been  cut,  and 
stood  upon  the  yellowing  stubble  in  great  tufted 
shocks  which  rustled  if  a  rabbit  went  springing  past, 
or  a  faint  wind  stirred  the  dry,  sword-like  leaves ; 
the  brook,  which  kept  in  friendly  fashion  close  to 
the  road,  had  dwindled  in  its  shallow  bed,  and  left 
bare  the  flat,  worn  stones  which  a  month  before  had 
been  covered  with  the  dash  and  foam  of  hurrying 
water  ;  the  woods  were  yellowing  a  little,  and  a  soft 
haze  hung  all  across  the  smiling  valley. 

The   stage   jogged  along  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  or 


272  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

rumbled  under  covered  bridges,  where,  from  between 
the  dry,  creaking  planks,  lines  of  dust  sifted  down 
upon  the  sunny  water  below,  and  from  the  openings 
in  the  roofs  streaks  of  powdery  sunshine  fell  like 
bars  across  the  gloom,  making  the  horses  swerve  a 
little  to  avoid  them.  As  they  pulled  up  the  hills, 
Jonas  pounded  with  the  butt  end  of  his  whip  on  the 
wide  tire,  to  keep  time  to  a  monotonous,  jolting 
song :  - 

"  So  there,  now,  Sally, 

I  kiss  ye  once  again  ; 
So  there,  now,  Sally, 

Don't  kiss  no  other  men  !  " 

Mrs.  Pendleton  chattered  steadily,  and  Miss  Susan 
thought  of  her  last  ride  in  the  coach  with  her  impa 
tient  and  ardent  lover.  At  least,  she  thought  of  it 
until  she  fell  asleep.  Occasionally  her  head  nod 
ded  forward ;  but  Mrs.  Pendleton's  remarks  rarely 
needed  more  elaborate  answers. 

Did  Miss  Susan  know  if  Dr.  Lavendar  were  de 
pendent  upon  his  salary,  or  did  he  have  an  indepen 
dent  income  ?  How  old  was  he  ?  How  much  did 
she  suppose  Joseph  Lavendar  was  worth  ? 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know !  "  said  Miss  Susan 
sleepily. 

After  that  Mrs.  Pendleton  was  silent,  and  sighed 
once  or  twice ;  then,  with  an  effort  to  change  the 
subject,  she  began  to  talk  about  her  works. 

"  I  mean  to  give  a  copy  of  the  Thoughts  to  Philip 
Shore's  little  girl." 

Miss  Susan  opened  her  eyes  at  the  sound  of 
Philip's  name. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  273 

"  Oh,  is  it  a  child's  book  ?  " 

"  No ;  oh,  dear  me,  no ;  it  is  for  grown  persons  ; 
but  there  are  lessons  in  it  for  all.  Though  it  is  very 
delicate,  —  nothing  which  a  child  might  not  read  ;  " 
and  to  show  the  character  of  Thoughts  Mrs.  Pendle- 
ton  took  the  trouble  to  recite  a  poem  about  a  little 
girl  who  went  to  the  spring  with 

"  A  long-lipped  pitcher  of  lovely  shape." 

The  moral,  she  told  Miss   Susan,  was  detached,  to 
impress  it  upon  the  mind,  thus :  — 

MORAL. 

"  So  if  you  chance  to  make  a  sad  mistake 
On  any  lovely  summer  morn, 
And  pretty  dish  or  long-lipped  pitcher  break, 
Be  sure,  my  dear,  and  tell  mamma  't  is  done." 

"  You  see,  a  book  like  that  will  be  good  for  that 
poor  little  Shore  child,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  ended,  wav 
ing  her  veil  back.  "  She  is  sadly  neglected." 

44  Neglected  ?  Molly  ?  "  said  Miss  Susan  hotly. 
"  She  has  the  best  father  in  the  world,  and  —  and 
her  mother  is  very  fond  of  her ;  and  —  "  ' 

44  Exactly,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  broke  in,  nodding  her 
head  ;  44  but  it 's  hard  on  a  child  to  be  brought  up 
by  a  father  and  mother  who  are  not  united." 

44  Oh,  indeed,  I  think  you  must  allow  that  I  know 
them  best,"  Susan  Carr  said  stiffly.  4'  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Shore  are  both  very  reserved  people,  but  —  but  they 
are  devoted  to  Molly,"  she  ended  lamely.  She  felt 
as  though  she  wanted  to  shake  Mrs.  Pendleton.  44  It 
serves  me  right  for  promising  to  go  to  Mercer  with 
her !  "  she  thought,  and  looked  at  the  floor  so  forbid- 


274  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

dingly  that  conversation  flagged.  She  would  not 
look  up  until  they  entered  Mercer;  and  when  she 
did,  as  the  stage  stopped,  it  was  to  see  Joseph  Lav- 
endar,  his  face  beaming  with  a  friendly  smile  that 
turned  the  corners  of  his  blue  eyes  into  a  network  of 
wrinkles. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Susan,  pray  take  my  hand !  "  he 
begged,  pulling  open  the  stage  door,  and  letting  the 
hinged  steps  drop  with  a  clatter.  His  happiness  was 
apparent  in  his  very  voice. 

Susan  Carr  had  not  a  word  to  say.  She  got  out, 
and  watched  him  offer  Mrs.  Pendleton  the  same 
courtesy  ;  she  felt  rigid,  and  when  she  tried  to  smile 
she  had  that  consciousness  of  the  stiffness  of  the 
muscles  about  her  lips  that  most  of  us  know  in  those 
moments  when  we  try  to  assume  enjoyment  when  we 
have  it  not.  She  flashed  a  stern  and  suspicious 
glance  at  the  little  widow  cowering  by  her  side,  who 
whispered,  "  Oh,  I  hope  it  was  all  right  ?  I  knew 
it  would  give  the  poor  man  pleasure  ;  though  no 
thing  can  come  of  it,  I  'm  afraid." 

u  Of  course  nothing  can  come  of  it,"  Miss  Susan 
replied,  so  loudly  that  Mrs.  Pendleton  shrank,  and 
said,  "  Sh-h-h !  "  "  But  it  makes  110  difference  to 
me.  I  'm  going  to  make  a  call.  You  can  go  to  the 
shops  with  Mr.  Lavendar." 

"  Oh,  won't  that  be  too  marked  ?  "  remonstrated 
Mrs.  Pendleton,  under  her  breath.  "  And  consider 
my  errand,  too  !  Oh,  that  is  quite  marked." 

"  I  wished  it  to  be  marked,"  said  Susan  Carr 
dryly.  "  I  '11  leave  Mrs.  Pendleton  to  you,  Joseph," 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  275 

she  said  with  deliberate  malice,  turning  to  the  ner 
vous  and  happy  escort.  "  Take  her  to  White's  and 
Eaton's ;  they  are  the  best  shops.  We  can  meet  at 
the  hotel  for  dinner.  We  'd  better  have  dinner  at 
half  past  two,  I  think." 

And  then  she  tramped  off,  with  the  heavy,  swing 
ing  step  that  comes  only  from  having  walked  between 
the  furrows  of  new-ploughed  fields. 

"  Of  course  she  told  him  I  was  coming !  "  she  said 
to  herself,  angry  at  Mrs.  Pendleton's  meddling  and 
Joseph's  persistence ;  but  with  her  anger  was  a  cer 
tain  pride  in  being  so  ardently  sought. 

When  she  had  made  her  call,  she  tried  to  fincf 
some  interest  and  pleasure  in  her  shopping ;  but  her 
heart  was  hot  at  the  memory  of  Mrs.  Pendleton's 
perfidy,  and  heavy  with  the  thought  of  Joseph  Lav- 
endar's  disappointment.  Nor  did  she  feel  more 
cheerful  when,  across  the  street,  she  caught  sight  of 
the  two  culprits  talking  so  earnestly  that  they  did 
not  see  her.  Indeed,  she  even  experienced  that  un 
reasonable  resentment  which  comes  to  the  best  of 
women  when  they  see  a  rejected  lover  consoling  him 
self. 

Yet  that  did  not  prevent  her,  when  they  met  at 
dinner  at  the  hotel,  from  putting  Mrs.  Pendleton 
between  herself  and  Joseph ;  and  when,  later,  grudg 
ingly  enough,  she  went  with  them  to  make  some 
further  purchases,  from  using  Mrs.  Pendleton  as  a 
protector,  and  placing  her  in  the  middle  as  they 
walked  down  the  street. 

But  her  conscience  reproached  her  for  her  severity 


276  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

to  them  both,  and  when  the  stage  started  she  tried  to 
apologize  to  Mrs.  Pendleton  for  her  neglect.  "  I  'm 
afraid  I  seemed  a  little  ungracious,  but  I  really  had 
to  go  and  see  some  people ;  and  I  knew  Mr.  Laven- 
dar  would  be  as  good  a  guide  as  I." 

Mrs.  Pendleton  shook  her  head  hopelessly.  "  Oh, 
I  never  supposed  you  were  not  going  to  be  with  me, 
or  I  shouldn't  have  let  him  meet  me,"  she  said. 

But  Miss  Carr  would  not  pursue  the  subject ;  she 
did  not  want  to  talk  about  Mr.  Joseph.  She  said 
she  must  put  down  her  accounts.  Yet  even  while 
she  was  adding  up  her  columns  of  figures,  and  count- 
*ing  out  everybody's  change,  she  was  wretched  at  the 
thought  of  her  unkindness  to  her  too  devoted  lover. 
Indeed,  when  she  got  home,  and  sat  down  to  her 
solitary  supper  table,  and  heard  Ellen  scolding  her 
for  looking  tired,  she  was  almost  ready  to  cry,  to 
think  how  she  had  hurt  his  feelings. 

She  did  not  follow  Ellen's  report  of  the  day's  hap 
penings  very  closely  :  Miss  Lyssie  Drayton  had 'gone 
to  the  upper  village  on  an  errand ;  Ellen  believed 
that  the  child  would  work  herself  to  death  over  those 
shiftless  people  in  the  upper  village.  Mrs.  Dove 
had  had  a  whole  hind  quarter  of  lamb  cooked  for 
Mr.  Tommy's  dinner;  Ellen  didn't  see  how  ever 
cold  meat  was  used  up  in  that  house,  they  had  so 
many  joints.  "  We  don't  cook  no  whole  hind 
quarters,"  Ellen  said  ;  "  but  we  believe  willful  waste 
is  woeful  want."  Mr.  Philip  went  away  on  the 
afternoon  stage  ;  did  Miss  Susan  know  he  was  going? 
And  then  Ellen  coughed  a  little,  and  said  there  was 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  277 

a  tablecloth  in  last  week's  wash  that  needed  darning. 
"  He  ain't  looking  real  good,  Miss  Susan  ?  " 

Miss  Carr  came  out  of  her  remorse  with  a  start. 
"  Oh,  I  think  he  's  pretty  well,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Philip  was  never  what  you  'd  call 
pious,"  Ellen  commented,  shaking  her  head,  "  so  I  'm 
sure  I  'd  like  to  see  him  comfortable  in  this  world  ; 
but  Mrs.  Shore's  Rosa  was  in  to-day,  and  —  well,  I 
don't  know  !  —  she  says  they  had  words  last  night. 
Poor  Mr.  Philip !  Well,  he  's  gone  ;  and  Rosa  says 
that  he  won't  be  in  no  hurry  to  come  back.  Dear 
me,  I  don't  know  how  it  will  end." 

Miss  Susan's  heart  was  in  her  throat,  yet  she 
waited  for  Ellen  to  finish  before  telling  her,  sharply, 
that  she  did  not  know  what  she  was  talking  about, 
and  that  Mr.  Philip  was  very  well ;  and  why  should 
n't  he  go  away  on  business  ?  Miss  Carr  had  thought 
that  Ellen  had  more  sense ;  she  thought  she  was 
crazy !  and  she  might  go  and  get  some  hot  tea. 
"  This  is  cold  as  a  stone,"  said  Miss  Susan ;  "  and 
you  are  very  foolish,  Ellen." 

44  So  people  are  beginning  to  see  it !  "  she  said  to 
herself,  with  a  groan,  as  Ellen  disappeared  with  the 
teapot.  But  Miss  Carr  did  not  realize  that  this  was 
not  the  "beginning"  of  the  seeing  which  she  de 
plored.  If  she  had  only  known  it,  Ellen  had  "  seen 
it"  long  before  she  had;  and  so  had  Esther  and 
Betsey,  and  half  a  dozen  other  Esthers  and  Betseys. 
It  was  only  the  little  thrill  of  excitement  caused  by 
Mr.  Shore's  abrupt  departure  which  made  their 
knowledge  come  to  the  surface. 


278  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

We  rarely  realize  how  astoundingly  complete  is 
our  servants'  knowledge  of  us  and  our  friends.  Our 
weaknesses  belong  to  them,  our  errors  and  our  mis 
fortunes  ;  we  are  to  them  what  the  theatre  and  the 
latest  novel,  nay,  what  other  people's  scandals,  are 
to  us. 

And  though  poor  Susan  Carr  shrank  from  be 
lieving  it,  it  was  just  about  this  time  that  all  Old 
Chester,  through  the  lowly  medium  of  the  Shores' 
servants,  began  to  know  how  bad,  how  very  bad 
things  were  up  in  the  big  house  on  the  hill. 


XXI. 

Shall  I  seek  Heaven  that  I  may  find  a  place, 

Where  with  my  soul  't  is  well  ? 
If  I  seek  thus,  tho'  I  may  strive  for  Heaven, 

My  face  is  set  towards  Hell. 

KlMBALL. 

THEKE  had,  indeed,  as  Miss  Susan's  Ellen  hinted, 
been  "  words  "  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shore  ;  and 
the  result  had  been  that  Philip  had  taken  the  stage 
the  next  afternoon  and  gone  to  town. 

"When  are  you  going  away?"  Cecil  had  said  to 
her  husband,  suddenly,  at  dinner,  after  John  had 
left  the  room.  "  Or  shall  we  leave  you  here  ?'  I 
am  going  abroad  next  month  with  Molly,  and  I  want 
to  close  the  house." 

"  Mamma,  is  Eric  going  ?  "  Molly  clamored. 

"  Polly,  run  upstairs  and  bring  me  a  box  of  cigars 
that  is  on  the  table  in  my  room,"  Philip  said,  his 
face  pale,  his  fingers  tightening  upon  the  stem  of 
his  wineglass.  When  she  had  gone,  he  said  between 
his  teeth,  without  looking  at  his  wife,  "  I  will  answer 
you  when  we  are  alone." 

Cecil  cut  a  peach,  smiling.  "  I  'm  not  sure  that 
it  is  proper  for  us  to  be  alone.  Do  you  think  Mrs. 
Drayton  would  chaperon  me,  if  I  asked  her  ?  Oh  ; 
arrange,  of  course,  about  the  money  you  will  want ; 
you  must  n't  deprive  your  art  student  of  his  income." 

"  This  is  not  decent,  before  the  child !  "  he  said 
passionately. 


280  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Father,"  MoUy  called  from  the  first  landing, 
running  her  hand  back  and  forth  across  the  balus 
ters  to  make  believe  that  she  was  playing  on  a  harp, 
"  there  is  n't  any  box  of  cigars  here.  Father,  may  I 
take  some  cologne  out  of  your  green  bottle  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Look  in  my  dressing-room  for  the  cigars," 
Philip  called  back. 

Cecil  put  her  peach  down ;  she  leaned  forward, 
her  eyes  narrowing  like  a  tiger's.  "  Very  well,  then, 
you  understand :  /  take  Molly  with  me.  Listen ! 
If  you  try  to  c  divide  her  time,'  I  '11  carry  it  through 
every  court  in  the  land,  and  I  '11  tell  —  everything ! 
I  don't  care !  I  'm  going  to  leave  America,  so  I 
don't  mind  the  scandal.  Besides,  people  will  think 
you  are  mad  ;  '  not  a  fit  guardian,'  you  know." 

"  Father,"  Molly  said  cheerfully,  coming  down 
stairs  one  foot  at  a  time,  with  the  box  of  cigars  in 
her  arms,  "  I  put  some  cologne  on  your  cigars  to 
make  them  smell  sweet." 

It  was  like  a  keen  edge  laid  against  some  tense 
chord.  Philip's  face,  set  with  anger,  suddenly  quiv 
ered  with  a  laugh ;  then  his  eyes  blurred.  But 
Cecil  rose,  with  a  passionate  exclamation. 

Molly,  leaning  against  her  father,  was  pulling  out 
the  cologne-soaked  cigars  with  all  the  pride  of  the 
benefactor. 

"  Just  smell  'em !  Oh,  father,  may  Eric  go  on 
the  ship?" 

"  Do  you  want  Eric  to  go,  darling  ?  "  Cecil  asked. 
"  Then  come  here  to  mamma,  and  she  '11  tell  you  all 
about  it" 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  281 

And  Molly  joyously  deserted  her  father,  and  ran 
to  hang  on  her  mother's  hand  and  chatter  about  her 
dog. 

Later,  when  the  child  had  gone  to  bed,  Philip 
came  into  the  parlor,  where  his  wife  was  reading. 
"  I  am  going  to  town  to-morrow  —  "  he  began. 

"  To  see  your  lawyer  ?  "  Cecil  interrupted  sardon 
ically. 

"  Yes.  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  word  of 
honor  not  to  go  away  in  my  absence." 

Cecil  laughed.      "  Oh,  Philip,  how  melodramatic !  " 

"  Give  me  your  word." 

"I  hadn't  thought  of  abducting  her,"  she  assured 
him ;  "  that  sort  of  thing  is  n't  my  style.  I  much 
prefer  you  to  find  out  from  your  lawyer  how  absurd 
you  are  to  suppose  that  you  have  any  claim."  And 
then  she  took  up  "Monsieur,  Madame,  et  Bebe," 
and  he  went  away. 

"  How  silly  in  him  to  make  all  this  fuss !  "  she 
thought,  looking  absently  over  the  top  of  the  book ; 
"  but  I  suppose  I  must  consult  somebody." 

And  later  in  the  evening,  half  reluctantly,  half 
eagerly,  she  wrote  to  Mr.  Roger  Carey,  saying  that 
she  wished  to  see  him  on  a  matter  of  business.  As 
she  sealed  the  letter,  she  remembered,  with  some  an 
noyance,  that  she  did  not  know  his  address.  She 
could  find  out  from  Lyssie ;  and  yet,  oddly  enough, 
she  did  not  want  to  ask  Lyssie.  So  the  letter  stood 
on  her  writing-desk  for  a  day  or  two ;  stood  there, 
in  fact,  after  Philip  had  consulted  his  lawyer,  and 
had  learned  that,  as  he  had  supposed,  if  the  question 


282  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

of  the  disposition  of  Molly  were  pressed  to  a  legal 
decision,  she  would  undoubtedly  be  given  to  her 
mother. 

"The  court  does  not  recognize  your  subtilties, 
Shore,"  his  lawyer  told  him,  and  looked  as  though 
he  would  like  'to  add  his  own  opinion  on  the  subject. 
But  his  client's  face  did  not  encourage  him. 

Philip  Shore  did  not  go  back  at  once  to  Old  Ches 
ter.  He  must,  he  told  himself,  be  alone  to  meet  the 
question  of  giving  up  Molly  to  her  mother  or  giving 
up  his  convictions.  Nor  did  he  communicate  with 
his  wife ;  and,  her  letter  to  Roger  still  unsent,  Cecil 
was  ignorant  of  the  legal  probabilities.  She  was 
not  exactly  anxious  about  them,  but  she  was  irritated 
at  the  delay.  If  there  were  going  to  be  any  compli 
cation,  she  wanted  to  know  it.  Roger  Carey  could 
tell  her ;  and  yet  some  strange  instinct  made  her 
still  delay  to  ask  Lyssie  for  his  address ;  perhaps  an 
unconscious  application  of  the  Mosaic  command  that 
at  least  one  shall  not  seethe  a  kid  in  its  mother's 
milk. 

She  explained  this  reluctance  to  herself  by  saying 
that  Lyssie  would  wonder  why  she  was  writing  to 
him.  "  And  there  's  no  use  in  telling  her  until  the 
last  moment,"  she  thought,  softening.  "  Poor  Lys ! 
she  '11  be  so  distressed."  The  grief  of  it  all  to  Lys 
sie  was  in  her  mind,  as,  in  the  small  jewel  of  a  room 
which  she  used  as  a  morning-room,  she  sat,  after 
dinner,  idly  looking  at  a  pile  of  unanswered  letters 
on  her  writing-desk.  A  little  fire  was  burning  on 
the  hearth,  repeating  itself  in  faint  gleams  on  the 


„.-•      PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  283 

dark  furniture,  in  the  sconces  high  up  between  the 
windows,  and  in  the  long  mirror  that,  divided  by 
gilded  pilasters,  hung  lengthwise  above  the  mantel. 

To  Lyssie,  pushing  the  door  open,  and  coming 
smiling  into  the  room,  it  had  never  looked  more 
peaceful :  the  flickering  fire  ;  Eric  on  the  white  rug 
before  the  hearth,  his  great  nose  between  his  paws ; 
Molly  asleep  on  a  sofa  in  a  dusky  corner ;  and  Cecil 
sitting  at  her  desk,  writing,  —  perhaps  to  Philip. 
Lyssie,  poor  child,  hoped  it  was  to  Philip ;  she  had 
been  greatly  troubled  of  late  by  Cecil's  manner  to 
her  husband. 

"  Am  I  interrupting  you,  Ceci  ?  "  she  said  gayly. 
"Mother  seemed  so  bright  this  evening  that  I 
thought  I  'd  run  up  for  a  little  while.  Esther  es 
corted  me." 

"  No,  kitty ;  it 's  very  nice  to  have  you,"  Cecil 
said,  in  a  preoccupied  way,  getting  up  from  her  desk, 
and  letting  Lyssie  kiss  her  before  sinking  down  into 
a  chair  before  the  fire.  "  Oh,  shut  the  door,  will 
you,  dear  ?  There  is  a  draught  on  Molly." 

"  I  thought  Molly  went  to  bed  at  eight  ?  "  Lyssie 
commented,  as  she  closed  the  door. 

"  She  did  n't  want  to,  to-night." 

"  But  she  'd  be  so  much  more  comfortable  in  bed 
than  lying  here  with  her  clothes  on,"  Alicia  urged  ; 
for  Molly's  face  was  flushed  and  troubled,  and  she 
moved  uneasily  in  her  sleep. 

"  I  like  her  near  me,"  Cecil  said  calmly. 

Lyssie  opened  her  lips  to  protest,  but  apparently 
thought  better  of  it,  and  began  to  talk  of  other 


284  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

things.  She  told  Cecil  that  Eliza  Todd's  baby  had 
died  that  afternoon.  "  I  never  saw  death  before," 
she  said,  her  voice  a  little  awed,  "  but  it  was  n't 
dreadful.  The  poor  little  thing  was  so  sick  and  so 
tired,  and  it  just  stopped  breathing,  —  that  was  all. 
I  was  holding  it  on  my  lap,  and  I  did  n't  know  until 
poor  Eliza  said,  '  Oh,  she  's  gone '  !  " 

"  It 's  really  the  best  thing  that  could  have  hap 
pened,  though,"  Cecil  answered.  "  Poor  little 
Eliza  !  I  suppose  she  cries  just  as  much  as  though 
she  had  not  six  other  empty  stomachs  to  think  about. 
When  is  it  to  be  buried  ?  Do  you  think  she  would 
be  pleased  if  I  sent  her  some  flowers  ?  " 

Alicia  looked  at  her  lovingly.  "  How  sweet  in 
you  to  think  of  it !  Yes,  indeed  she  would.  The 
funeral  is  to  be  to-morrow."  And  then  they  were 
silent  a  little  while,  until  Lyssie  asked  her  sister  if 
she  had  been  out.  "  It 's  been  a  perfect  clay.  You 
lazy  thing,  I  believe  you  've  just  poked  over  the  fire 
all  day  !  " 

"  I  've  read  a  very  bad  French  novel,"  Cecil  as 
sured  her  ;  "  that  is  exercise  enough.  I  feel  it  my 
duty  to  keep  up  my  French  when  I  'm  in  the 
country." 

"  I  suppose  a  bad  book  is  better  exercise  than  a 
good  one?  "  Lyssie  retorted.  "  I  don't  see  any  use 
in  reading  bad  books,  Ceci." 

"  That 's  because  you  've  never  done  it,  my  dear." 

"  Well,"  Alicia  returned,  hesitating,  "  Roger  said 
once  that  he  thought  — 

"Now,  Lyssie,  for   Heaven's  sake,  don't  be  the 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  285 

kind  of  woman  who  is  forever  quoting  what  4  he ' 
says !  Your  own  opinions  are  good  enough." 

"They  are  not  so  good  as  Eoger's,  and  I  don't 
know  anybody  else's  that  are,  either !  " 

"  Oh  well,"  Cecil  declared,  "  you  must  n't  talk  so 
much  about  him  !  If  you  are  forever  talking  of  his 
superhuman  virtues,  you'll  make  people  hate  him. 
I  hate  him  now,  a  little." 

"  Then  you  are  a  very  narrow-minded  person," 
L/yssie  said  placidly,  sitting  down  on  the  rug  in  front 
of  the  fire,  and  dragging  Eric's  head  over  into  her 
lap.  u  Wake  up,  old  fellow !  "  she  commanded, 
squeezing  his  black  nose  with  her  two  pretty  hands. 
Eric  flopped  his  tail  heavily,  and  opened  one  eye, 
and  then  dozed  again.  "  To  prevent  your  hating 
Eoger,  I  '11  change  the  subject.  When  does  Philip 
come  home  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Cecil  answered  ;  and  then  added, 
yawning,  "  and  I  'm  sure  I  don't  care." 

Lyssie's  face  sobered.  She  was  so  happy  herself 
—  for  she  had  Roger  —  that  the  pity  of  it  all  made 
the  tears  spring  to  her  eyes.  She  came  and  knelt 
down  at  Cecil's  side,  putting  her  arms  around  her 
sister's  waist  and  kissing  her  shoulder  softly. 

"  Ceci  darling,  you  know  you  ought  n't  to  say 
those  things.  Even  if  they  were  true,  they  ought 
not  to  be  said." 

Cecil,  clasping  her  hands  behind  her  head,  and 
smiling  with  a  dubious  droop  of  the  corner  of  her 
mouth,  looked  down  at  the  sensitive,  quivering  face 
before  her. 


286  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  Lys  dear,  Philip  and  I  are  going  to  separate. 
So,  naturally,  I  don't  concern  myself  as  to  his  move 
ments." 

"  Separate  ?  "  Lyssie  repeated  vaguely ;  "  sepa 
rate  ?  Why  —  why,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  To  separate  means  to  live  apart,  ordinarily." 

"  Live  apart  —  I  don't  understand,"  Alicia  said 
faintly.  "  Cecil,  what  do  you  mean  ?  -  Cecil,  you 
don't  mean  —  ?  "  She  grew  white  to  her  lips. 

"  Why,  Lys,  you  surely  have  n't  thought  us  such 
a  united  pair  ? "  Cecil  said,  surprised.  Alicia's 
speechless  pallor  troubled  her ;  she  put  her  arm 
about  the  girl's  waist.  "  Come,  now,  you  must  n't 
be  so  upset.  I  did  n't  mean  to  tell  you  just  yet, 
but  there  is  really  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't 
know  ;  only  you  must  n't  be  so  upset  about  it.  And 
don't  speak  of  it,  please."  She  paused,  and  patted 
Alicia's  head.  "  Why,  you  poor  little  thing  !  " 

"  Oh,  Cecil,  it  is  n't  true  ?  You  are  not  telling 
me  the  truth  ?  " 

"  My  dear,"  Cecil  answered  impatiently,  "  of 
course  it 's  true  ;  it  is  n't  a  subject  on  which  I  would 
romance.  Now,  please  don't  cry,  Lys ;  it  always 
makes  me  cross  to  have  people  cry." 

Alicia  lifted  her  face,  and  caught  at  Cecil's  wrists 
with  trembling  hands,  leaning  heavily  against  her. 
"  You  can't  be  in  earnest  ?  It 's  wicked  !  Leave 
Philip  ?  It 's  wicked.  Cecil !  " 

Cecil  frowned.  "  If  you  are  going  to  be  so  silly, 
I  'm  sorry  I  told  you.  But  I  thought  perhaps  you 
could  help  me  about  Molly.  Philip  has  an  idea  that 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  287 

lie  wants  her  part  of  the  time,  —  a  sort  of  King  Solo 
mon  arrangement,  you  know,  and  just  about  as 
healthy  for  Molly.  Of  course  I  shan't  allow  it. 
But  he  will  probably  make  a  dreadful  fuss.  I 
thought  you  might  advise  him  to  have  more  sense  ; 
but  you  just  sit  there  and  cry  !  I  tell  you,  I  '11  be 
much  happier  when  it 's  all  settled.  I  'm  going  to 
take  Molly  abroad,  and  I  '11  be  very  happy." 

"  Cecil,"  said  Alicia  faintly,  "  do  you  mean  that 
you  and  Philip  are  going  to  be  —  ?  " 

"  Divorced  ?  "  Cecil  ended  dryly.  "  No,  that 's 
horrid  and  public.  Besides,  we  neither  of  us  want 
to  marry  anybody  el  — 

"  Don't !  "  Alicia  put  her  hands  over  her  ears. 
"  You  must  n't  speak,  you  must  n't  think  —  such 
things  !  Oh,  I  —  She  stopped  ;  she  had  no  pro 
tests,  no  arguments,  nothing  but  horror. 

"  We  don't  want  to  marry  again,"  Cecil  went  on 
calmly,  —  "  at  least,  I  'm  sure  I  don't ;  I  've  had 
enough  of  it !  But  I  simply  cannot  endure  Philip 
any  longer.  And  I  suppose  that  is  exactly  the  way  he 
feels  about  me.  Which  really,  Lys,  —  I  don't  want 
to  be  egotistical,  but  really,  that  is  very  odd  in 
Philip.  So  we  are  going  to  separate.  I  shall  go 
abroad  with  Molly.  Oh,  don't  sit  there  and  weep, 
Lyssie  !  " 

Cecil  got  up  angrily,  pushing  past  Alicia's  crouch 
ing  figure,  and  going  over  to  Molly,  who,  cramped  by 
her  clothing  and  the  straight  lines  of  the  sofa,  was 
looking  very  uncomfortable. 

Cecil    Shore    knelt   down   beside    the    child,   the 


288  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

anger  in  her  eyes  melting  into  the  passion,  not  of 
motherhood,  but  of  the  mother,  —  the  clam.  Her 
voice  trembled  with  caresses  :  "  Sweet !  Sweet ! 
Sweet !  Open  your  little  eyes,  my  own,  open  your 
eyes  !  "  She  pushed  her  arm  under  the  pillow  and 
drew  Molly  toward  her,  gathering  her  two  small  hot 
hands  in  one  of  hers,  pressing  them  against  her  lips, 
her  throat,  her  bosom,  in  a  fierce  caress.  "  Molly, 
kiss  mamma !  kiss  mamma !  "  Molly  stirred,  and 
sighed,  and  burrowed  her  head  in  her  mother's 
breast.  Cecil,  panting,  and  with  passionate,  inar 
ticulate  murmurs,  devoured  the  little  neck  with 
kisses;  she  strained  the  soft  body  against  her,  so 
that  Molly  struggled  and  gasped,  and  then  said,  with 
the  heavy  tongue  of  slumber,  "  Don't !  "  and  pushed 
out  her  arms,  fretting  to  be  asleep  again. 

"  I  'm  so  discomfortable,"  she  said. 

Alicia  looked  at  her  sister,  then  turned  away  her 
eyes ;  why,  she  could  not  have  said.  It  was  not  be 
cause  this  outburst  of  maternal  love  was  sacred ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  was  not  even  human ;  it  frightened 
her,  it  almost  shocked  her. 

"  Mamma,  you  squeeze  me  so  tight,"  Molly  com 
plained. 

"  Cecil !  "  Alicia  burst  out  sharply,  "  don't !  " 

Cecil,  rocking  back  and  forth,  looked  over  her 
shoulder  and  smiled,  with  a  tightening  of  her  lips. 
"  Well,  do  you  think  I  would  give  her  up  ?  "  Then, 
as  if  fatigued,  with  a  smiling  sigh,  her  arms  relaxed ; 
and  Molly,  with  a  catch  at  her  mother's  dress  to 
save  herself,  slipped  to  the  floor,  and  stood  on  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  289 

unsteady  little  legs,  blinking  with  bewildered,  sleepy 
eyes  at  her  mother  and  aunt.  Then  she  turned  as 
though  to  climb  on  the  sofa  again,  but  Cecil  re 
strained  her  gently.  u  No,  darling ;  you  must  go  to 
bed  now,  kitty.  I  '11  call  Rosa." 

Molly  whimpered,  and  broke  into  a  fretful  wail. 

"  Don't,  precious ;  mamma  does  n't  like  little  girls 
who  cry !  "  and,  half  impatiently,  she  pushed  the 
child  toward  the  door.  "  Take  her,  Rosa !  Molly, 
if  you  don't  stop,  I'll  punish  you." 

She  put  her  fingers  in  her  ears,  and  came  back 
to  her  chair  before  the  fire.  "  Does  n't  a  shriek 
like  that  go  through  you  ?  Now,  Lys,  I  want  to  say 
just  one  thing  about  —  what  we  were  speaking  of. 
There  is  no  use  making  yourself  miserable  over  it. 
I  shall  be  much  more  comfortable.  I  have  our  be 
loved  father's  example,  you  know,  and — " 

"You  mustn't  say  those  things  to  me!"  Alicia 
interrupted,  with  indignant  grief.  "  It  reflects  upon 
my  mother  as  well  as  papa,  and  I  won't  hear  it." 

"  Well,  then  I  have  n't  his  example,  if  that  pleases 
you  better.  It  is  original  sin.  But  what  I  wanted 
to  say  is,  don't  say  anything  about  it,  please,  until 
I've  made  my  final  arrangements.  It  may  be  a 
week  or  two  yet,"  she  ended,  frowning. 

Lyssie  did  not  answer ;  she  was  too  heartsick  for 
any  more  words.  Cecil  began  to  walk  restlessly 
about  the  room;  once  she  stopped  as  though  about 
to  speak,  but  checked  herself,  and  went  over  to  her 
desk,  and  seemed  to  arrange  some  letters  ;  then,  sud 
denly,  as  though  the  words  had  broken  free  from 


290  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

her  will,  she  said,  standing  with  her  back  to  Alicia, 
"  Oh  —  where  is  your  Mr.  Carey,  Lys  ?  What  is 
his  address  ?  I  've  got  to  write  to  him  on  business." 

For  once  Roger's  name  woke  no  happy  conscious 
ness  in  Alicia  Drayton's  face ;  she  gave  the  address, 
and  then,  with  quivering  lip,  kissed  her  sister,  stam 
mering,  brokenly,  something  of  duty,  of  Molly,  of 
Philip's  goodness.  "  Oh,  Cecil,  say  you  won't  leave 
him!" 

But  Cecil  drew  back  impatiently.  "Ach!  your 
face  is  all  wet,"  she  said,  rubbing  her  cheek. 

"  Good-night,  Cecil,"  Lyssie  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
and  went  away. 


XXII. 

I  know  how  far  a  daughter  owes  obedience, 
But  duty  has  a  bound,  like  other  empires. 

DBYDEN. 

As  she  walked  home  through  the  darkness,  the 
sense  of  her  own  helplessness  in  this  dreadful  matter 
fell  upon  Alicia  Drayton  like  some  tangible  despair. 
Her  most  agonized  efforts  beat  against  her  sister's 
flippancy  like  wind  against  some  crystal  barrier. 

"  Oh,  if  Cecil  would  only  listen  to  me !  "  she  said 
to  herself.  "  But  she  won't ;  she  never  has." 
Alicia  did  not  cry  ;  she  was  too  terrified  for  tears. 

When  she  reached  home,  she  was  so  absorbed 
that  she  did  not  notice  the  traces  of  tears  upon  her 
mother's  cheek,  although  Mrs.  Drayton's  elaborate 
concealment  of  them  might  well  have  called  her  at 
tention  to  them.  She  went  silently  about  her  task 
of  arranging  things  for  the  night :  she  rolled  Mrs. 
Drayton's  thin  hair  into  a  thicket  of  curl-papers, 
and  put  the  shade  before  the  night-lamp,  and  said, 
gently,  "  yes  "  or  "  no  "  to  this  or  that  sighing  ques 
tion;  then  she  kissed  her  mother  good-night,  and 
turned  to  go  away.  But  a  smothered  sound  arrested 
her,  and  she  came  back. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  Did  you  call  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  no  ;  it  does  n't  matter ;  it 's  nothing.  Go 
to  bed.  Don't  mind  me,"  and  Mrs.  Drayton  sobbed 
faintly. 


292  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

But  Alicia's  grave  patience  did  not  relax  into  any 
girlish  burst  of  tenderness. 

"  What  's  the  matter,  mother  darling  ?  Your  head 
does  n't  ache,  does  it  ?  " 

"  You  are  so  absorbed  now,  Lyssie,  in  your  own 
happiness,  of  course  I  don't  expect  you  to  think 
about  me.  I  've  been  crying  here  alone  all  the  even 
ing,  while  you  've  been  enjoying  yourself  at  Cecil's. 
Not  that  it  matters  ;  I  'm  glad  to  have  you  enjoy 
yourself." 

"  I  know  you  are,  dear,"  Lyssie  said  simply. 
44  But  I  'm  so  sorry  anything  troubles  you.  Won't 
you  tell  me  what  it  is?  "  She  knelt  down  by  the 
bedside,  and,  lifting  Mrs.  Dray  ton's  hand  to  her  lips, 
kissed  the  finger  tips  once  or  twice  gently.  "  What 
troubles  you,  mother  dear?  Were  you  lonely?" 

It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  Alicia  had 
felt  that  sense  of  effort  in  showing  affection  which  is 
such  pain  to  a  tender  heart. 

"  I  'm  always  lonely,"  Mrs.  Drayton  reminded  her 
severely. 

"  I  know,"  Alicia  said  sympathetically.  "  But 
maybe  papa  will  be  home  soon.  I  really  think,  from 
his  last  letter,  that  he  is  stronger,  and  perhaps  he 
will  soon  be  able  to  come  back." 

Mrs.  Drayton  caught  her  breath,  and  sat  up  in 
bed  excitedly.  "  I  don't  know  why  you  say  so  !  I 
don't  think  so  at  all !  "  she  cried  shrilly.  "  What 
makes  you  say  such  things  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  only  thought  perhaps  he  might,"  Lyssie 
began  to  explain,  wearily  ;  "  that  was  all." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  293 

"  Then  why  do  you  startle  me  so  ? "  demanded 
Mrs.  Drayton,  sinking  back  on  her  pillows,  and 
panting,  the  tears  of  anger  and  relief  glittering  sud 
denly  in  her  eyes.  "  You  speak  of  his  coming  home, 
and  then  you  —  you  just  disappoint  me  !  As  if  I 
did  n't  suffer  enough  from  his  absence,  without  hav 
ing  my  nerves  shattered  in  this  way !  " 

"  I  'm  sorry,  dear  ;  I  did  n't  mean  to." 

"  And  I  'm  sure  I  'm  unhappy  enough  without 
your  making  me  more  so.  I  'm  very  unhappy ;  I  'm 
a  great  sinner." 

At  this  Alicia  at  once  resigned  herself  to  an 
hour's  battle  with  hysteria  ;  she  knew  too  well  the 
various  phases  through  which  her  mother  must  pass 
in  struggling  with  a  sense  of  sin,  before  finding  com 
fort  "  in  the  bosom  of  her  Heavenly  Father." 

She  was  never  impatient  with  or  suspicious  of 
these  struggles ;  she  was  only  tender,  with  a  tender 
ness  which  kept  her  reverent  even  of  those  peculiar 
phrases  with  which  Mrs.  Drayton  was  apt  to  clothe 
her  religious  emotions.  We  sometimes  grow  impa 
tient  of  such  phrases  unless  we  have  love  like  little 
Lyssie's ;  yet,  after  all,  there  is  not  one  of  them  but 
once  wras  body  to  a  living  thought.  A  human  heart 
must  have  beat  its  way  through  a  terrible  or  uplift 
ing  experience  in  those  words,  a  soul  found  them 
the  portal  to  eternal  things.  Long  since  the  life  has 
gone  out  of  the  phrase,  though  its  dead  body  still 
goes  about  among  the  churches,  and  thrusts  itself 
into  formal  prayers,  and  comes  at  last  to  be  what 
one  might  call  spiritual  slang  upon  the  lips  of  per- 


294  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

sons  like  Mrs.  Drayton.  Yet  for  its  beginnings  of 
truth,  let  us  be  reverent  of  it,  as  Lyssie  was. 

"  I  've  lost  my  sense  of  intimacy  with  God,"  said 
Mrs.  Drayton. 

"  Do  you  feel  sick,  mother  ? "  Alicia  asked  anx 
iously. 

"  Sick  !  "  said  Mrs.  Drayton,  with  a  reproachful 
look.  "  Do  you  think  a  sense  of  sin  is  a  matter  of 
digestion  ?  No ;  I  'm  not  any  more  sick  than  I 
always  am.  I  've  done  wrong ;  and  my  Heavenly 
Father  is  showing  me  that  He  is  offended  with  me." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  have  done  anything  very  bad, 
dear,"  Alicia  comforted  her;  "but — you  know, 
mother,  if  you  are  sorry,  why  —  it's  all  right." 

Lyssie  had  never  been  able  to  speak  her  mother's 
religious  language  ;  she  could  not  talk  of  God's  for 
giveness  ;  she  could  only  say  it  would  be  "  all  right." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  Mrs.  Drayton  retorted.  "  You 
don't  understand,  Lyssie,  what  a  high  ideal  I  have. 
When  one  has  walked  with  God  daily,  and  then  does 
something  which  makes  Him  hide  the  light  of  his 
countenance,  why,  it 's  —  it 's  trying,"  said  Mrs. 
Drayton,  weeping.  "  And  I  have  sinned  ;  I  acknow 
ledge  that.  And  now  I  suffer  from  the  withdrawal 
of  his  favor." 

Alicia  murmured  some  appropriate  word ;  she 
wondered  how  soon  she  might,  without  offense,  sug 
gest  a  sleeping-powder.  The  knowledge  of  Cecil's 
intention  hung  over  her  as  such  an  appalling  reality 
that  it  was  an  effort  to  speak  or  think  of  anything 
else.  Mrs.  Drayton  still  wept.  She  said  she  must 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  295 

get  up,  and  kneel  and  pray  again.  "He  will  be 
displeased  with  me  unless  I  kneel  down,"  she  sighed. 

Alicia  combated  this  gently.  "  You  'd  take  cold, 
dear;  please  don't.  And  —  God  understands." 

"  Well,  I  shall  just  tell  Him  you  wouldn't  let  me! 
I  tell  Him  everything,  you  know.  Oh,  what  it  is  to 
be  intimate  with  God !  and  I  am,  generally.  I  saw 
a  hymn  somewhere,  and  the  last  line  of  each  verse 
was,  '  My  God  and  !;'--!  can't  remember  the  rest. 
But  that 's  just  the  way  it  is  with  me,  usually.  He 
knows  all  my  thoughts,  and  I  ask  Him  for  everything 
I  want ;  I  wish  you  'd  do  that,  Lyssie.  I  just  say, 
4  Now,  Lord,  I  leave  it  in  your  hands  ;  I  want  it,  and 
you  really  must  attend  to  it.'  And  He  always  does. 
I  said  that  when  I  wanted  the  parlor  sofa  covered, 
and  you  remember  how  you  found  the  covering  in 
the  garret  ?  Yet,  kind  as  He  is,  I  Ve  —  I  've  dis 
pleased  Him !  " 

Alicia  consoled  and  comforted ;  but  all  the  while 
she  was  searching,  passionately,  for  some  help  for 
Cecil  and  Philip.  She  did  not  hear  the  meaning  in 
Mrs.  Drayton's  moans  and  sighs  of  repentance,  until, 
suddenly,  the  sin  which  kept  the  poor  lady  from  an 
intimacy  with  God  was  put  in  half  a  dozen  clear 
words.  It  was  not  that  she  had  been  impatient  with 
Esther  last  Tuesday ;  it  was  not  that  she  had  left 
Lyssie's  dear  papa's  letter  unanswered  for  three  days 
(and  there  was  not  a  single  word  in  it  to  lead  any 
body  to  think  he  was  coming  home,  —  Lyssie  would 
please  remember  that) ;  it  was  not  even  that  she  had 
seemed  to  criticise  Dr.  Lavendar  to  Susy  Carr. 


296  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

Alicia  knew  all  these  sins  well.  It  was  something 
which,  as  the  whimpering  woman  told  it,  made  a 
look  come  into  Lyssie's  face  that  turned  her  mother 
sober,  and  brought  a  note  of  reality  into  her  voice. 

"  You  said  you  would  n't  get  married  while  I  was 
very  ill,  Lyssie.  You  promised,  —  do  you  remem 
ber?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  Lyssie  answered  patiently. 
"  But  Roger  would  n't  want  me  to.  You  need  n't 
have  asked  me  to  promise,  mother." 

But  Mrs.  Drayton  could  not  hear  so  delicate  a 
reproach.  "Well,"  she  faltered,  her  heart  beating 
hard  with  excitement  and  interest,  "  well,  I  —  oh,  of 
course  I  know  it  was  a  dreadful  sin,  but  I  was  so 
unhappy.  I  had  made  up  my  mind,  before  I  asked 
you,  that  if  you  would  n't  promise,  I  should  —  com 
mit  suicide." 

Alicia  was  silent. 

"  Take  my  own  life,"  Mrs.  Drayton  explained 
tremulously.  "  I  had  Esther  get  me  a  little  bottle 
of  laudanum  from  Mr.  Tommy's.  I  said  it  was  for 
a  toothache.  Well,  so  it  was.  You  remember  I 
had  a  toothache  ?  But  I  did  n't  use  it  all,  and  so  I 
meant,  if  you  would  n't  promise,  to  —  Oh,  I  sup 
pose  it  was  a  great  sin  ?  " 

Alicia  put  her  hand  across  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  mo 
ther  !  "  she  said  faintly. 

It  was  really  too  bad  that  poor  little  Lyssie  did 
not  know  how  meaningless  is  this  vain  and  silly 
threat  from  the  lips  of  an  hysterical  woman.  Yet 
perhaps,  if  she  had  known,  she  could  have  found  no 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  297 

wise  answer.  To  receive  such  statements  with  the 
laugh  they  justly  provoke  is  seldom  beneficial ;  to 
take  them  seriously  is  an  outrage  upon  truth  ;  to 
point  out  their  selfishness  and  silliness  results,  gen 
erally,  in  an  outcry  against  the  hardness  of  the  lis 
tener.  Alicia  Drayton,  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands,  only  said,  half  whispering,  "  Oh,  mother, 
mother  !  if  you  loved  me,  you  could  n't  think  such 
thoughts." 

"  Why,  it 's  just  because  I  love  you  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
Drayton,  growing  shrill  and  frightened.  "  I  don't 
see  how  I  can  live  when  you  get  married  and  go 
away.  I  thought  I  'd  much  better  die  ;  and  so,  if 
the  Lord  did  n't  think  it  wise  to  remove  me,  I  thought 
I  'd  just  do  it  myself.  I  thought  — 

And  thus  and  thus  she  babbled  on  ;  Alicia  listen 
ing  silently.  It  was  a  long  time  before  things  were 
peaceful  enough  for  the  tired  girl  to  creep  away 
to  her  room.  She  forgot  to  light  her  candle ;  she 
sat  down  in  the  dark,  her  hands  folded  listlessly 
in  her  lap  ;  once  her  breath  caught  in  a  long  sigh. 
After  a  while  she  took  Roger's  last  letter  out  of  her 
pocket  and  held  it  tightly,  as  though  it  were  the 
strong  clasp  of  his  hand,  full  of  comfort  and  assur 
ance.  She  could  not  understand  all  this  misery, 
and  pain,  and  puzzle  ;  but  —  Roger  loved  her !  She 
held  on  to  that,  while  she  felt  the  shock  and  surge 
of  human  passion  all  about  her  sweet  young  life  ; 
while  she  saw  Hate  hidden  by  a  shallow  wash  of 
flippancy,  like  a  scum  of  foam  and  froth  over  treach 
erous  sands;  and  Selfishness  lying  like  a  dreadful 


298  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

rock  below  the  currents  of  daily  living,  ready  to 
make  shipwreck  of  the  hopes  and  happiness  of  young 
souls  like  hers.  It  was  as  though  the  bad  world 
suddenly  lifted  the  veil  from  its  face  and  laughed. 

Alicia  Drayton  hid  her  eyes,  and  kissed  her  lover's 
letter,  and  had  no  prayer  but  his  name  repeated 
over  and  over. 

At  last,  when  the  night  was  far  gone,  she  got  up 
and  lit  her  candle,  and  wrote  to  him.  It  was  only 
a  cry  that  something  dreadful  had  happened,  some 
thing  dreadful  for  Cecil.  She  would  not  tell  him 
what,  but  would  he  not  come  ?  Now  !  He  could 
help  things,  she  thought,  if  there  were  any  help. 
"  But  oh,  come,  —  come  and  help  Cecil.  She  will 
tell  you  all  about  it,  and  I  know  you  will  help  her !  " 


XXIII. 

Are  we  not  brothers  ?  —  SHAKESPEARE. 

THE  post  that  brought  to  Roger  Carey  Lyssie's 
terrified  and  confused  appeal  brought  also  a  brief 
communication  from  Mrs.  Shore.  She  was  anxious 
to  consult  Mr.  Carey  on  business;  could  he  run 
down  to  Old  Chester  for  a  day  or  two  ?  She  would 
be  greatly  indebted  to  him  if  he  could  spare  the 
time  to  come. 

As  it  happened,  Roger  really  could  not  spare  the 
time  very  well,  and  a  stern  sense  of  duty  might  have 
made  him  write  to  Lyssie,  with  anxious  regret,  that 
he  could  not  possibly  leave  his  office  at  what  chanced 
to  be  an  important  moment ;  but  he  was  able  to  si 
lence  his  conscience  for  stealing  a  day  off  with  Alicia 
by  the  business  terms  in  which  Mrs.  Shore's  sum 
mons  was  couched.  "  I  've  got  to  go,"  he  assured 
himself.  "  Business  is  business  ;  but  I  '11  stay 
over  Sunday,  and  maybe  Lyssie  will  be  willing  not 
to  go  to  church  this  once ;  —  and  then  she  '11  tell 
me  what  troubles  her,"  he  thought,  a  little  amused, 
but  tender.  Roger  had  forgotten  his  vague  self- 
reproach  for  something  he  had  not  done  on  the  day 
that  he  had  last  seen  Lyssie  and  her  sister,  and 
he  was  aware  now  of  nothing  but  eagerness  to 
see  his  sweetheart  again.  "  I  '11  take  the  Friday 


300  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

afternoon  stage,"  he  told  himself,  with  great  satis 
faction. 

It  happened  that  Mr.  Joseph  Laveiidar  took  the 
same  stage,  and  he,  with  instant  hospitality,  insisted 
that  Mr.  Carey,  instead  of  putting  np  at  the  village 
tavern,  should  come  to  the  rectory.  "My  brother 
will  be  delighted  to  see  you,"  he  said,  "  delighted  !  " 
Roger,  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  the  rectory,  and 
morning  and  evening  worship,  and  no  food  to  speak 
of,  protested  that  the  tavern  was  very  comfortable  ; 
that  he  was  in  town  on  business,  and  would  be  much 
occupied  ;  that  he  could  not  think  of  bothering  Dr. 
Laveiidar :  in  fact,  he  offered  all  those  excuses  with 
which  we  try  to  evade  undesired  hospitality,  and 
which  never  save  us. 

Mr.  Lavendar  pooh-poohed  them  all.  "  My 
brother  '11  be  delighted,"  he  insisted,  beaming. 

And  Roger,  with  a  sigh  for  the  freedom  of  the 
tavern,  declared  that,  in  that  case,  he  should  be 
delighted,  too ;  and  so  it  was  settled. 

Mr.  Lavendar  was  honestly  glad  to  see  the  young 
man,  because  he  was  a  young  man,  and  in  love,  and 
on  his  way  to  Old  Chester/ —  three  things  calculated 
to  arouse  a  kindly  sentiment  in  the  mind  of  Joseph 
Lavendar  ;  but  he  suddenly  remembered  that  Mr. 
Carey  was  also  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Pendleton's,  and  he 
was  at  once  conscious  of  a  distinctly  warmer  feeling 
for  him.  As  they  sat  side  by  side  on  the  box-seat, 
he  scanned  Roger  furtively  over  the  rims  of  his 
spectacles,  and  seemed  to  find  the  inspection  satis 
factory.  He  liked  the  young  man's  gray  clothes ;  he 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  301 

liked  his  straw  hat  ;  he  liked  his  clean-shaven  face,  his 
strong  mouth,  his  keen  eye.  "  He  has  a  look  of 
Amanda,"  Mr.  Joseph  thought  sentimentally,  indif 
ferent  to  the  claims  of  blood  on  the  part  of  the  late 
Mr.  Pendleton. 

They  did  not  talk  very  much.  Eoger,  until  the 
long,  slow  jog  in  the  sunshine  made  him  sleepy,  was 
wondering  what  on  earth  Mrs.  Shore  could  want  of 
him ;  and  the  other  had  his  own  affairs  to  think  of. 

Mr.  Joseph  sighed  once  or  twice,  and  looked  at 
his  companion  as  though  about  to  speak.  Yet  they 
were  more  than  half  way  to  Old  Chester  before,  in 
the  most  casual  way  in  the  world,  though  with  a 
flurried  note  in  his  voice  which  Roger  might  have 
noticed  had  he  been  less  sleepy,  Mr.  Lavendar  began 
to  say  something  of  his  young  friend's  interesting 
relative  Mrs.  Pendleton.  He  spoke  of  her  writings, 
her  gardan,  her  pleasing  and  most  feminine  manners, 
and  then  he  ventured  the  criticism  that  she  must  be 
somewhat  lonely,  being  (comparatively)  a  stranger 
in  Old  Chester. 

Roger  yawned,  and  said,  Well,  yes,  he  supposed 
so. 

Then  there  was  a  little  silence,  after  which  the 
older  man  observed,  hurriedly,  that  the  afternoon 
was  charming,  and  he  wondered  that  so  agreeable 
a  lady  had  not  married  again. 

"  Yes,"  said  Roger,  glancing  off  across  the  russet 
fields. 

"  It  surprises  me  a  little,"  Mr.  Lavendar  remarked, 
and  paused  to  cough  gently  behind  his  hand,  "  that 


302  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

she  lias  not  made  another  choice  ;  though  perhaps  it 
is  a  little  soon  to  think  of  it,  and  I  am  certain  that 
your  relative  would  observe  every  propriety.  How 
ever,  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  will  make  another 
choice  at  some  future  time  ?  " 

"  Very  likely,"  Roger  agreed  absently.  He  had 
waked  up  enough  to  say  to  himself  again,  "  But 
why  does  she  send  for  me  ?  Where  's  Woodhouse  ? 
He  looks  after  their  affairs.  I  wonder  if  Shore  ad 
vised  it  ? "  He  did  not  notice  how  instantly  the 
furtive  anxiety  had  cleared  from  Mr.  Lavendar's 
face,  nor  how  he  drew  a  full  breath,  and  smiled,  and 
began  to  talk  to  the  stage-driver  with  a  certain  ex 
cited  gayety. 

When  Mr.  Carey  climbed  down  at  Alicia's  door, 
and  said  he  should  not  come  to  the  rectory  until  late, 
for  he  thought  Mrs.  Drayton  would  give  him  some 
supper,  Mr.  Lavendar  hardly  protested.  His  mind 
was  too  full  of  the  conclusion  he  had  drawn  from 
the  young  man's  assent  to  his  statement  that  Mrs. 
Pendleton  would  no  doubt  make  another  choice. 

"  That  settles  the  question  of  the  will,"  he  thought, 
his  heart  beating  hard.  For  the  rest  of  the  evening 
he  thought  of  nothing  else,  even  while  the  preface 
to  the  chapters  which  were  to  be  written  upon  The 
Relation  of  Precious  Stones  to  the  Science  and 
Practice  of  Medicine  was  being  read  aloud  to  him, 
and  while  he  told  his  brother  all  the  Mercer  news. 

After  supper,  as  usual,  the  brothers  played  domi 
noes,  with  Danny  snuggled  into  Dr.  Lavendar's 
chair ;  the  old  clergyman  was  constantly  addressing 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  303 

the  little  grizzled  dog  with  fierce  epithets,  and  threat 
ening  that  he  would  give  him  away  to  the  first  per 
son  who  wrould  take  him.  "  You  are* a  scoundrel, 
sir !  "  his  master  assured  him,  edging  forward  in  his 
chair  to  make  more  room  for  him. 

"  Go  on,  Joey,  it 's  your  draw.  You  're  slow, 
boy!" 

Mr.  Joseph  drew.  "  Ah,  brother  Jim,"  he  said, 
continuing  to  draw,  "  I  spoke  —  I  should  say,  young 
Carey  spoke,  of  my  friend  Mrs.  Pendleton.  You 
recall  your  fear  that  she  was  hampered,  as  you  might 
say,  by  the  will  of  the  late  Mr.  Pendleton  ?  " 

Dr.  Lavendar,  about  to  mark  his  gains  with  a 
broken  match  upon  an  old  cribbage-board,  looked 
up,  his  jaw  dropping. 

"  Young  Carey  said,"  Mr.  Joseph  went  on  (still 

drawing),  "  he  said  that  — but  I  won't  trouble  you 

with  what  he  said ;  only,  brother  Jim,  I  wished  you 

to  know  that  there  are  strong  probabilities  that  the 

—  impediment  which  you  mentioned  does  not  exist." 

"  But  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  other  impedi 
ments  do  !  "  cried  Dr.  Lavendar,  choking. 

"  I  am  not  aware  of  them,"  said  Mr.  Joseph,  with 
dignity;  but  he  breathed  hard,  and  drew  three 
more  dominoes  very  rapidly. 

"  Have  you  asked  her  yet  ? "  the  elder  brother 
demanded.  ("  Hold  on  !  How  many  are  you  going 
to  draw?") 

Mr.  Lavendar  checked  himself  and  apologized  ; 
beginning,  with  a  shaking  hand,  to  arrange  a  fence 
of  dominoes  like  a  Druid  circle  about  the  altar  of 


304  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

a  double-six.  "  I  have  n't  asked  her  yet ;  but  now 
I  mean  to.  I  don't  think  we  need  pursue  this  sub 
ject  ;  it  is  painful  for  us  both." 

"  The  result  will  be  painful  for  you,  sir !  "  Dr. 
Lavendar  answered  loudly.  "  But  if  Ephraim  is 
joined  to  his  idols,  I  suppose  one  must  let  him  alone ; 
only  I  should  like  to  say  one  thing,  and  then  we  '11 
drop  the  subject :  Are  you  prepared  to  live  on  your 
wife,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  have  my  profession,"  returned  poor  Mr. 
Joseph,  matching  a  five,  and  turning  off  the  snaky 
line  to  the  left ;  but  he  quivered  under  the  thrust. 

"  Well,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  throwing  himself 
back  in  his  chair  so  suddenly  that  Danny  squeaked, 
and  scrambled  out  from  under  his  arm,  "in  my 
young  days,  a  young  man  wouldn't  have  had  the 
face  to  go  to  a  rich  woman  and  say,  '  I  can  earn  my 
coach-fare,  ma'am,  and  a  dollar  or  two  beside,  but 
I  '11  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  marry  me.'  But 
never  mind,  never  mind.  Things  have  changed 
since  then." 

"  James !  " 

"  Well,  he  would  n't"  Dr.  Lavendar  said  tremu 
lously.  Then  he  opened  and  shut  his  lips  several 
times  before  he  succeeded  in  adding,  "  I  did  n't 
mean  that,  Joey.  You  make  me  seem  irritable 
sometimes  ;  but  not  at  all ;  I  am  merely  impatient. 
Of  course  you  earn  more  than  your  coach-fare.  But 
I  don't  like  her,  Joey  ;  that 's  the  fact.  She  threw 
you  over  once;  she'd  do  it  again." 

"  You  've  no  right  to  say  that,  brother  Jim,"  Mr. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  305 

Joseph  said ;  then,  the  gibe  about  his  money  still 
rankling,  he  went  on  with  some  spirit :  "  And  beside, 
it  is  n't  as  though  I  were  a  fortune-hunter ;  not  at 
all.  I  have  something  beside  my  profession. 
There  's  the  income  we  shall  have  from  the  book." 

Dr.  Lavendar  was  silent.  He  got  up,  and  went 
over  to  the  mantelshelf  and  filled  his  pipe,  forgetting 
to  light  it ;  then  he  came  shuffling  back.  "  It 's  your 
draw,"  he  said,  and  stroked  Danny's  ears  violently. 
"I  —  I,  of  course,  expect  a  good  income  from  my 
book.  But  you  've  no  right  to  reckon  on  that.  It 
belongs  to  me." 

Mr.  Joseph  did  not  speak.  Dr.  Lavendar  played 
excitedly ;  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  "  Don't  you 
want  a  light,  Jim?"  his  brother  said,  and  got  up 
and  brought  a  live  coal  in  the  tongs ;  and  then  they 
played  in  silence. 

Joseph  Lavendar  could  hardly  see.  If  he  did  not 
match  his  dominoes,  his  brother  let  it  pass.  "  You  've 
no  right  to  reckon  on  that :  "  Mr.  Joseph  said  it 
over  and  over.  He  forgot  Mrs.  Pendleton.  Such 
a  threat  had  no  bearing  upon  his  purpose,  but  it 
broke  his  heart.  Jim's  book  —  Jim's  income  —  he 
had  "  no  right  to  reckon  "  on  them  !  He  played  on 
blindly ;  he  felt  as  though  he  hated  Mrs.  Pendleton ; 
but  he  matched  a  doublet  and  turned  and  twisted 
the  long  line  across  the  slippery  top  of  the  table, 
and  made  no  protest. 

It  was  a  dreadful  evening  to  these  two  brothers  : 
they  wished  Roger  Carey  would  come  in  ;  they  could 
not  meet  each  other's  eyes  as  they  sat  there  alone, 


306  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

and  it  would  be  something  to  have  the  young  man 
to  talk  to  and  to  look  at.  But  he  did  not  come ; 
and  by  and  by,  at  half  past  nine  to  the  minute,  they 
went  out  together  to  look,  as  usual,  at  the  ther 
mometer,  and  to  mark  the  temperature  upon  a  shel 
tered  clapboard  at  one  end  of  the  porch,  where  a  line 
of  such  marks  showed  the  age  of  the  habit.  Then 
they  had  prayers ;  after  which,  still  as  usual,  they 
together  conducted  Danny  to  his  bed  in  the  barn, 
and  blew  out  the  lights.  They  put  a  candle  and  a 
match  upon  the  hall-table  for  Mr.  Carey,  and  left 
the  door  on  the  latch.  Then  they  said  good-night, 
and  each  shut  himself  up  in  his  room. 

Both  of  them  were  awake  when,  the  night  half 
over,  Roger  Carey  entered,  and,  with  careful  stealth, 
climbed  the  stairs  to  his  bedroom. 


XXIV. 

"  'T  is  very  possible,"  replied  I,  "  when  a  man  is  thinking  more  of 
a  woman  than  of  good  advice."  —  Sentimental  Journey. 

WHEN  Alicia's  first  delight  at  seeing  her  lover  had 
worn  off,  her  face  settled  into  anxious  lines.  But 
she  was  incapable  of  putting  into  words,  even  to  him, 
the  "  dreadful  thing,"  the  "  shameful  thing,"  as  she 
thought  it,  which  had  happened  to  her  sister;  all 
that  she  told  him,  the  color  coming  up  into  her  face, 
and  even  her  slender  neck  flushing,  was  that  some 
thing  troubled  Cecil  and  Philip.  "  I  'm  sure  you 
can  help  them,"  she  said. 

Roger  did  not  press  her  for  any  explanation. 

"  Very  well,  dear,  I  '11  do  my  best,"  he  told  her 
gently,  and  saw  the  painful  color  ebb,  and  her  clear 
eyes  meet  his  again.  He  was  very  gentle  with  her, 
as  one  is  with  a  child  whose  modesty  is  a  beautiful 
ignorance  ;  but  it  removed  him  very  far  away  from 
her.  In  his  own  mind  he  smiled  a  little.  "  They  've 
quarreled,  I  suppose,"  he  thought,  "  and  Lyssie,  bless 
her  little  heart !  wants  me  to  reconcile  them.  But  I 
can't  do  anything.  The  fellow  who  tries  to  mediate 
between  husband  and  wife  is  a  fool.  But  why  in  the 
world  did  she  send  for  me  ?  It  can't  be  this 
squabble  ?  " 

And  when,  directly  after  supper,  he  left  Lyssie, 
with  the  promise  of  an  early  return,  and  went  up  to 


308  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

Mrs.  Shore's,  he  was  still  in  the  dark  as  to  why  he 
had  been  summoned  to  Old  Chester. 

No,  Mr.  Shore  was  not  at  home,  he  was  told. 
Mrs.  Shore  was  in,  yes  ;  the  servant  would  find  out 
whether  she  would  see  Mr.  Carey.  Roger,  waiting, 
received  a  leaping  welcome  from  Eric,  and  responded 
as  warmly.  "  You  old  scamp !  "  he  said,  lovingly,  as 
the  dog  showed  that  beautiful  and  joyous  affection 
which  the  human  creature  is  as  unworthy  to  receive 
as  he  is  incapable  of  experiencing  in  himself.  But 
all  the  while  he  was  listening  intently  for  a  step  upon 
the  stairs,  and  he  was  aware  that  he  was  breathing 
quickly.  Then  the  maid  came  to  say,  Would  Mr. 
Carey  please  go  up  to  Mrs.  Shore's  sitting-room  ? 

She  did  not  rise  to  meet  him,  but  she  smiled,  and 
held  out  her  hand  without  speaking.  That  reception 
of  smiling  silence  is  strangely  flattering.  Roger  felt 
it  so  now. 

"  You  see  I  come  at  once,"  he  said. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  answered  cordially ; 
and  then  said  something  of  the  bore  of  a  stage  ride, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  had  dinner,  and  would  he 
not  have  a  glass  of  wine  ? 

"  No,  thank  you,"  Roger  said.  The  situation  itself 
was  suddenly  like  wine  to  him.  Behind  her,  high  on 
the  wall,  a  cluster  of  candles  burned  in  an  old  sconce, 
and  a  shower  of  soft  light  fell  on  her  bronze  hair 
wrapped  in  two  noble  braids  about  her  head.  At 
her  suggestion,  he  threw  a  fresh  log  upon  the  fire, 
and,  with  a  leaping  rush  of  sparks,  the  small  flames 
curled  about  it  as  tremulously  as  the  fingers  of  a 


V 
PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  309 

player  about  the  neck  of  his  mandolin  ;  the  light 
shone  on  her  face,  and  glimmered  in  a  square  topaz 
that  caught  the  lace  together  at  her  throat,  and 
spread  itself  in  a  sheen  upon  her  lap.  —  Roger  Carey 
could  not  hold  his  eyes  away  from  her  ! 

Cecil  talked,  in  her  slow  voice,  —  a  voice  that  had 
color  in  it,  —  of  this  or  that :  told  him  Molly  was  in 
despair  to  have  to  go  to  bed  without  seeing  him ; 
laughed  a  little  at  the  invitation  from  the  rectory  ; 
said  Eric  had  pined  for  him.  Eric,  outside,  heard 
his  name,  and  rapped  on  the  door  with  his  tail. 
Roger  answered  recklessly  and  gayly.  He  had  no 
longer  any  curiosity  to  know  why  she  had  sent  for 
him  ;  he  was  here,  and  he  could  look  at  her,  and 
that  was  enough.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  had 
never  seen  a  more  splendid  creature.  She  was  not 
Mrs.  Philip  Shore  to  him ;  still  less  was  she  Lyssie's 
sister :  she  was  a  "  splendid  creature." 

"  Yes,"  Cecil  continued,  "  it  is  very  good  in  you 
to  come  so  promptly."  She  was  drumming  her  fin 
gers  carelessly  on  the  arms  of  her  chair,  and  looking 
into  the  fire  ;  "I  have  some  business  matters  I  want 
to  put  into  your  hands,  Mr.  Carey.  Mr.  Shore  and 
I  are  going  to  separate." 

The  blood  flew  to  Roger  Carey's  face.     "  What  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  I  am  going  to  need 
your  professional  services.  Did  you  have  a  vision 
of  the  divorce  court  ?  No ;  we  are  most  amicable, 
Mr.  Shore  and  I.  We  are  a  perfect  Darby  and 
Joan  in  the  way  in  which  we  agree  about  this.  We 
are  going  to  live  apart ;  that 's  all.  What  I  wanted 


310  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

to  ask  you  was  only  a  question  about  Molly.  And 
I  want  you  to  take  care  of  my  money,  too,  if  you 
will?" 

Her  words  were  like  a  dash  of  water  in  his  face ; 
he  dropped  abruptly  from  that  haze  of  impersonal 
appreciation  of  the  "  splendid  creature  "  to  keen  in 
terest  and  very  honest  dismay.  His  friend's  wife 
was  going  to  leave  him  ! 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Shore,"  he  cried,  "  this  is  very  dread 
ful  !  It  is  —  why,  it  is  incredible !  Surely  you 
don't  mean  —  it 's  only  a  passing  impulse  ;  you  can't 
mean  — 

"  Yes,"  Cecil  answered  quietly,  "  I  do  mean  it, 
Mr.  Carey.  I  need  not  bother  you  with  my  rea 
sons,  but  I  do  mean  it." 

"  But  I  don't  understand !  You  Ve  had  some 
difference,  I  suppose;  and  now  you  think  —  Oh, 
Mrs.  Shore,  it 's  impossible  !  You  must  let  me  see 
Philip  and  tell  him  you  think  better  of  it.  You 
must  let  me  —  do  something." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  Cecil  said,  with  an  an 
noyed  look,  "but  it's  all  settled;  thank  you  very 
much.  I  merely  wished  to  ask  you  one  or  two  ques 
tions." 

"  I  '11  answer  any  questions  I  can,  but  first  please 
let  me  say  how  distressed  and  shocked  I  am  at  what 
you  tell  me.  Of  course,  if  —  if  Philip  has  offended 
you  in  any  way  — 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  We  have  nothing  against  one 
another,  —  except  each  the  existence  of  the  other. 
Oh  yes ;  the  daily  aggravation  of  Philip's  good  ex- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  311 

ample  has  been  very  trying.     My  dear  Mr.  Carey, 
we  are  bored  ;  that  is  all." 

Roger  was  too  dumfounded  at  the  folly  of  it  for 
words ;  his  face  grew  rigid  with  consternation. 

"  I  thought  you  believed  in   separation  ?  "  Cecil 
said.     "  Did  n't  you,  say  the  Todds  ought  to  sepa-    . 
rate  ?     Or,  no  ;  it  was  Mr.  Shore  who  said  that ;  I 
had  forgotten.     But  you  certainly  told  me  you  be 
lieved  in  separation  ?  " 

"  Under  some  circumstances  I  do.  The  Todds 
ought  n't  to  live  together,  perhaps  ;  but  such  a  sepa 
ration  ought  to  be  made  by  the  State,  for  the  State  ; 
—  not  by  themselves  for  any  selfish  reasons.  But 
how  ridiculous  to  speak  of  such  a  thing  !  You  and 
Philip  are  educated  and  responsible  people,  who  pro 
pose  to  do  this  —  this  terrible  thing,  for  apparently 
no  reason  or  motive  whatever !  " 

"  Oh,  we  have  very  exalted  reasons,"  Cecil  an 
swered  with  a  slight  smile.  "  Mr.  Shore  knows 
that  I  no  longer  adore  him ;  Love's  young  dream 
is  over,  so  to  speak ;  so  on  high  moral  grounds  we 
think  it  right  to  part."  Her  color  deepened  as  she 
spoke,  and  there  was  an  instant's  .  silence  between 
them. 

Then  Roger  said,  constrainedly,  something  about 
false  ideas  of  morality.  "  It 's  all  very  well  to  hide 
the  fact  under  fine  sentiments ;  but  I  tell  you  what 
it  is,  it  is  a  case  of  the  Emperor  in  Hans  Andersen's 
story,  who  said  he  was  so  finely  dressed :  —  do  you 
remember  what  the  child  cried  out?  I  don't  care 
how  exalted  your  reasons  and  Philip's  are,  the  real 


312  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

naked  fact  is  selfishness !  But  I  refuse  to  think  it 
possible  that  you  will  do  such  a  thing.  It 's  only 
an  impulse,  as  I  said.  "Will  you  not  authorize  me  to 
go  to  see  Philip  and  tell  him  that  you  think  better 
of  it?" 

"  You  would  like  to  arrange  a  reconciliation, 
would  n't  you  ?  "  she  said  drolly.  "  Do  you  want 
Molly  to  fall  ill,  and  then  join  our  hands  over 
her  cradle?  Or  shall  one  of  us  die,  and  uncom 
fortably  remorseful  love  ensue  ?  No,  Mr.  Carey ; 
the  dramatic  does  n't  happen.  Molly  is  very  robust, 
thank  Heaven,  and  neither  Mr.  Shore  nor  I  mean 
to  commit  suicide  to  give  freedom  to  the  other  —  " 

Eoger  interrupted  her,  frowning.  "  This  is  too 
grave  a  matter  for  flippancy.  Let  me  discuss  it 
with  you  seriously." 

But  even  while  he  discussed  it  the  old  excitement 
crept  over  him,  this  time  with  a  shadowy  terror  in 
it ;  his  earnestness  held  a  singular  note  of  fright. 
He  did  not  want  Cecil  Shore  to  be  free !  Every 
argument  of  conventionality,  of  duty  to  Molly,  of 
ecclesiastical  force,  was  hot  upon  his  lips.  She  could 
not,  he  declared,  find  a  word  of  complaint  against 
Philip  ;  Philip  was  the  best  fellow  in  the  world.  He 
sternly  bade  her  realize  her  husband's  worth.  He 
was  convinced,  he  said,  that  the  fault  was  hers,  if 
Philip,  for  this  preposterous  reason  which  she  had 
given,  wished  to  leave  her.  "  You  are  a  selfish 
woman,"  he  said, — he  was  bending  forward,  one 
hand  behind  him,  gripping  the  arm  of  his  chair,  the 
other  outstretched,  almost  touching  hers  in  his  ex- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  313 

citement,  yet  never  unconscious  enough  to  really 
touch  hers,  —  "  you  are  a  selfish  woman,  and  you 
are  flippant,  which  is  worse.  Even  now  you  are 
flippant.  Here  is  a  matter  of  awful  seriousness,  and 
you  regard  it  —  or  you  pretend  to  regard  it  —  lightly, 
and  from  a  simply  selfish  point  of  view." 

Roger  was  battling  for  his  friend  with  all  his 
heart,  but  he  looked  all  the  while  —  he  could  not 
take  his  eyes  away  from  her  —  at  this  beautiful 
woman,  who,  despite  the  matter  of  which  they  were 
speaking,  was  again  only  a  beautiful  woman  to  him. 

But  defense  of  her  husband  was  an  insult  to  Cecil. 
She  flung  out  at  him  that  she  only  wished  to  consult 
him  about  Molly,  —  unless,  of  course,  being  Mr. 
Shore's  friend,  he  did  not  wish  to  advise  her  ?  In 
which  case  she  would  consult  some  one  else. 

"  I  am  here  to  advise  you,  whether  you  want  it  or 
not,"  he  returned  ;  "  now  just  listen  to  me,  please." 
He  stood  up  in  front  of  her,  one  hand  in  his  pocket, 
the  other  emphasizing  his  curt  words.  "  There  shall 
be  no  question  about  Molly;  you  and  Shore  will 
both  do  your  duty,  and  keep  a  home  for  her." 

His  indignation,  his  apparent  feeling  that  her 
views  and  reasons  were  beneath  argument,  his  evi 
dent  and  rude  belief  that  if  she  would  only  behave 
herself  like  an  intelligent  woman  Philip  would  "  be 
willing  "  to  give  up  this  mad  and  wicked  plan,  made 
Cecil  furious.  She  was  not  for  a  moment  impressed 
by  the  value  of  anything  he  said.  It  is  not  impossi 
ble  that  this  was  because  of  its  insincerity.  He  was 
arguing  as  he  believed,  but  not  because  he  believed 


314  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

it.  He  was  arguing  from  absolute,  dismayed  selfish 
ness. 

"  As  for  Molly,' '  he  said,  "  I  can't  help  telling  you 
frankly  that  I  consider  you  the  last  person  in  the 
world  to  take  charge  of  her  ;  you  spoil  her,  you 
amuse  yourself  with  her,  you  neglect  her,  just  as  it 
happens  to  suit  you." 

"  Mr.  Carey,  you  force  me  to  remind  you  that 
I  have  not  asked  your  opinion  about  my  conduct. 
j " 

"  Well,  I  'm  sorry  to  appear  to  thrust  my  opinion 
upon  you,  but  it 's  certainly  just  as  well  you  should 
know  what  people  will  think  and  say  if  you  carry 
out  this  preposterous  idea.  Upon  my  word,  Mrs. 
Shore,  it  is  amazing  to  me  that  a  man  of  Philip's 
integrity,  and  a  woman  of  —  well,  of  as  much  horse 
sense,  in  the  long  run,  as  you  have,  can  seriously 
consider  such  a  thing  !  I  shall  tell  Philip  that  he  '11 
sacrifice  Molly  if  he  carries  out  an  abstract  idealism 
(of  course  that 's  what  it  is  in  him),  because  she  will 
be  left  without  his  influence.  It 's  the  only  influence 
for  good  the  child  has,"  he  ended,  looking  at  her 
sternly. 

She  defended  herself  as  well  as  she  could,  but  his 
words  beat  her  like  whips.  In  spite  of  her  anger 
and  her  pride,  she  cowered  ;  tears,  even,  rose  in  her 
eyes.  "  You  are  very  unjust  —  you  are  very  un 
just,"  she  murmured. 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  am  only  just  ;  I  tell  you  the 
truth.  As  for  your  having  Molly,  —  yes,  I  suppose 
she  would  be  given  to  you,  if  you  did  anything  so 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  315 

wicked  as  to  push  this  matter  to  a  question  of  law. 
Unfortunately,  the  court  would  not  take  cognizance 
of  the  fact  that  you  are  an  unfit  woman  to  be  in 
trusted  with  her.  But  there  mustn't  be  such  a 
question  ;  you  must  go  back  to  your  husband,  — 
and  you  must  remember  you  're  his  wife.  This  mat 
ter  of  flinging  off  an  obligation  because  it  is  n't 
agreeable  is  vicious  and  pernicious,  I  don't  care  what 
the  ideals  are !  Ideality  can  be  responsible  for 
damnable  crimes."  He  spoke  with  that  brutal  in 
difference  as  to  his  choice  of  words  that  a  man  re 
serves  for  men,  and  for  the  woman  who  loves  him. 
It  did  not  strike  either  of  them  at  the  time,  but  he 
did  not  excuse  his  indignant  excitement  on  the 
ground  of  his  approaching  connection  with  the 
family. 

He  stood  looking  down  at  her,  his  chin  set,  his 
eyes  narrowing  in  a  certain  aggressive  masculinity 
that  made  all  the  woman  in  her  shrink.  "  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself !  "  he  said. 

She  rose ;  his  words  and  the  jarring  anger  of  his 
voice  were  as  tangible  as  a  grip  upon  her  wrists, 
pulling  her  to  her  feet  before  him.  "  Don't  say 
such  things ;  don't  talk  to  me  that  way.  It 's  done. 
I  can't  help  it.  It 's  done.  I  wish  you  would  help 
me  instead  of  talking  that  way." 

He  said,  breathlessly,  that  he  was  helping  her 
when  he  told  her  she  must  not  leave  her  husband ; 
for  Molly's  sake,  for  —  for  -  "  My  God  !  Philip 
Shore  's  a  fool !  "  he  burst  out.  But  instantly,  as 
though  a  quick  rein  tightened  upon  him,  he  again 


316  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

stammered  something  of  duty.  "  Promise  me  to  do 
your  duty  !  " 

"  I  '11  think  over  what  you  've  said,"  she  answered 
faintly.  She  felt  as  though  he  had  compelled  the 
words ;  she  was  afraid  of  him.  Her  breath  came  in 
a  sob,  and  she  swayed  a  little  as  though  about  to 
fall. 

"  You  are  faint !  "  he  said  quickly.  Her  arms 
fell  along  his  own  stretched  out  to  support  her ;  he 
felt  her  warm,  swaying  weight  upon  his  breast ; 
their  eyes  met  in  one  full,  pulsating  look,  —  met 
with  a  clash  of  exultant  shame  ;  and  dropped,  cow 
ering. 

Cecil  drew  back  violently,  flinging  her  hands  be 
hind  her  as  though  she  had  touched  fire.  Neither 
spoke.  Roger  Carey  trembled  to  his  soul. 

"I  —  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  I  thought  you  were 
faint  — " 

A  spark  from  the  fire  leaped  suddenly  out  across 
the  hearth  and  fell  on  the  white  rug  at  their  feet. 

"  How  that  wood  does  snap  !  "  he  said,  breathless. 

"  Yes  —  yes  ;  it 's  a  nuisance  to  have  it  snap  so. 
Oh,  are  you  —  must  you  go  ?  " 

"I  think  so.  Yes.  I  will  see  you  to-morrow. 
Good-night." 

"  Good-night." 


XXV. 

O,  how  this  spring  of  love  resembleth 
The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day  ; 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun 
And  by  and  by  a  cloud  takes  all  away. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

"No,  it  was  so  late  when  I  left  Mrs.  Shore's,  I 
thought  I  'd  better  not  come  in." 

"  Oh,  Roger,  could  you  make  things  straight  ? 
Oh,  is  n't  it  dreadful  that  she  should  have  thought 
of  such  a  thing  ?  I  felt  sure  you  'd  show  her  how 
wrong  it  was." 

"  Well,  I  said  everything  I  could  think  of.  Yes, 
I  produced  some  effect.  I  had  a  note  from  her  this 
morning,  and  — 

"  Oh,"  interrupted  Lyssie,  "  won't  you  please  be 
gin  at  the  beginning?  Tell  me  everything!  I'm 
so  worried.  What  did  you  say  to  her  ?  How  did 
you  begin  ?  Tell  me  every  word." 

But  there  was  singularly  little  to  tell. 

"  She  promises  to  reconsider  it,"  he  said. 
"There's  her  letter;  she  sent  it  down  this  morn 
ing  ;  read  it,  if  you  want  to.  She  just  says  she  will 
reconsider  it.  Lys,  after  I  left — Mrs.  Shore's,  I 
took  a  walk.  That 's  another  thing  that  made  me 
late.  The  fact  was,  I  wanted  to  think." 

"  About  this,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  About  you." 


318  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

The  color  came  into  Lyssie's  face,  and  she  smiled, 
in  spite  of  the  grief  of  the  world.  "  You  might 
have  found  a  better  subject !  " 

They  were  in  the  parlor ;  Lyssie  near  the  window, 
for  the  room  was  dark  with  a  steady  sweep  of  rain 
against  the  glass,  and  she  was  busy  with  a  bit  of 
sewing.  Outside  there  was  a  glimpse  of  a  frosted 
garden  standing  forlornly  in  the  mist ;  there  was  a 
yellow  litter  of  fallen  leaves  under  the  chestnuts, 
and  in  the  sodden  border  a  single  blot  of  scarlet, 
where  a  late  geranium  burned  bravely  in  spite  of 
its  pallid,  hanging  leaves.  Once  or  twice  a  drop 
splashed  down  the  chimney  and  sputtered  on  the 
hearth;  but  the  fire  flamed  cheerily,  with  a  low 
murmur  of  sap,  and  Eric  lay  comfortably  in  front 
of  it,  steaming  a  little,  and  twinkling  up  at  Eoger 
from  under  anxious,  deprecatory  brows. 

"  He  met  me  in  the  village,  and  he  would  come," 
Roger  explained,  and  touched  the  dog's  big  nose 
with  his  foot.  "  Come,  wake  up,  old  man !  " 

Eric  lifted  one  eyebrow,  and  flopped  his  tail,  but 
he  had  no  intention  of  moving. 

"  What  a  beastly  day  it  is !  "  said  Roger ;  he  was* 
wondering  whether  he  looked  as  stupid  as  he  felt. 

"Yes,"  Lyssie  assented,  glancing  up  from  her 
sewing.  "Just  see  this  yellow  leaf  the  rain  has 
beaten  against  the  window !  It 's  too  bad  about  our 
walk,  but  perhaps  it  will  clear  by  this  afternoon." 

"I  don't  believe  it  will,"  Roger  said  gloomily; 
and  then  he  came  and  sat  down  by  Lyssie's  little 
work-table,  and  took  her  scissors  and  began  to  snip 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  319 

off  bits  of  thread;  when  reproved  for  such  untidy 
ways,  he  built  the  spools  into  pyramids,  and  then 
drummed  on  the  table  to  make  them  totter  and  fall. 
He  had  nothing  to  say  of  Cecil  and  Philip,  except 
that  "  it  was  all  perfectly  absurd,"  and  just  a  pass 
ing  impulse.  "  It  will  come  out  all  right,"  he  told 
her  impatiently. 

"  Oh,  Roger,  are  you  sure  ? "  Lyssie  entreated, 
ready  to  cry  with  the  relief  of  it.  She  wished  he 
would  be  a  little  more  explicit,  but  she  would  not 
tease  him  with  questions ;  perhaps  he  felt  that  such 
a  matter  ought  not  to  be  spoken  of. 

Roger  knocked  all  the  spools  down  at  a  blow,  and 
rose,  and  stirred  Eric  up,  rolling  him  over  with  his 
foot,  and  worrying  him  with  grumbling  affection. 

It's  beastly,  this  rain,"  he  announced  again; 
which  made  Alicia  put  down  her  work  and  say 
with  decision,  "  We  will  go  out  to  walk.  You  don't 
mind  the  rain,  do  you?  I  don't.  And  it  will  be 
pleasanter  than  staying  in  the  house." 

Roger  brightened  up  at  once,  but  protested 
faintly :  "  You  might  get  damp ;  your  mother  will 
think  I  am  insane.  Of  course  you  must  n't  go  out 
in  the  rain.  We  can  talk  here  just  as  well.  I 
want  to  tell  you  what  it  was  that  I  thought  about 
you  last  night." 

If  this  suggestion  of  a  confidence  by  the  fireside 
was  any  temptation  to  Alicia,  she  did  not  betray  it. 
44  Damp  ?  What  does  that  matter !  I  'd  love  a 
walk  in  the  rain ;  "  and  she  silenced  him  by  running 
away  to  get  her  cloak. 


320  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Left  alone,  Roger  stood  looking  moodily  out  of 
the  window ;  the  fact  was,  he  had  decided,  after  a 
night's  sleep,  that  when  he  had  left  Mrs.  Shore,  the 
night  before,  he  had  taken  himself  too  seriously. 

There  was  certainly  110  doubt  about  it,  —  he  had 
taken  himself  seriously.  He  had  gone  down  through 
Cecil  Shore's  silent  house,  out  into  the  amber  dusk 
of  the  moonlit  autumnal  night,  half  drunk  with  ex 
citement.  All  the  man,  for  one  glowing  moment, 
had  spoken  in  his  eyes  ;  all  the  woman  had  answered 
in  hers ;  then  had  come  the  speechless  outcry  of  fear 
and  triumph,  the  ringing  silence  —  those  words  of 
the  habit  of  conventionality  neither  of  them  had 
heard.  When  he  had  shut  the  door  behind  him,  he 
stood  for  a  moment  on  the  porch,  staring  into  the 
night  and  breathing  heavily.  The  stone  steps  were 
wet  with  mist ;  there  was  a  scent  of  dead  leaves 
and  damp  earth.  Some  one  closed  a  window  in 
the  house,  and  he  caught  his  breath  with  a  start, 
as  though  he  were  awakening.  Mechanically  he 
walked  across  the  terrace,  and  down  along  the 
flagged  path  to  the  pool.  There  was  a  light  gauze 
of  mist  over  the  water,  and  the  fallen  leaves  under 
the  two  old  poplars  were  heavy  with  moisture.  At 
the  sound  of  his  step  along  the  path,  the  frogs 
stopped  suddenly  their  bell-like  clangor,  and  there 
was  a  splash  somewhere  under  the  mist,  and  then 
silence.  Roger  sat  down  on  the  stone  bench,  and 
passed  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  Good  Lord  !  suppose  I  had  kissed  her  ?  " 

His  danger  made  him  shiver.     A  breath  of  colder 


r  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  321 

air  came  straying  across  the  pool,  and  touched  his 
hands,  clasped  listlessly  between  his  knees.  Yes : 
she  had  leaned  against  his  breast ;  he  had  felt  the 
satin  warmth  of  her  arm  along  his  wrist.  Again  the 
blood  leaped  in  his  temples,  he  felt  hot  pulses  in  his 
fingers  ;  he  drew  in  his  lips,  and  his  eyelids  drooped 
into  a  smile  that  drove  the  soul  out  of  his  face.  Ah, 
that  swaying  weight  in  his  arms  ! 

He  exulted,  even  while  he  cowered  at  the  danger 
he  had  been  in;  but  he  lifted  his  wrist  to  his  lips 
and  kissed  it  savagely,  and  cursed  himself,  with  a 
laugh,  for  a  fool. 

"  Well,  I  did  n't.     But  damn  Philip  Shore  !  " 

Then  the  shame  of  it  grew  upon  him,  and  that 
inescapable  fright  which  comes  with  the  recognition 
of  a  possibility.  His  self-knowledge  struck  him  in 
solently  in  the  face.  "  But  I"  did  n't  do  it !  "  he 
insisted  sullenly.  He  almost  forgot  Cecil,  as  he 
thus  came  to  himself  and  saw  his  possibilities  before 
him ;  his  friend's  wife  had  only  opened  the  door  to 
facts.  He  could  forget  the  doorkeeper,  face  to  face 
with  the  drunken  crew  whom  she  had  admitted.  In 
his  dismay,  he  had  no  concern  for  any  dismay  that 
she  might  feel.  A  little  later,  to  protect  her  in  his 
thoughts,  he  decided  that  she  was  unaware  of  that 
hot  impulse  of  his,  and  that  he  had  read  no  consent 
in  her  eyes  ;  but  just  at  that  moment,  in  the  mist 
under  the  poplars,  he  did  not  think  of  her  at  all. 

But  how  keenly  aware  Cecil  had  been  of  it  all ! 
When  Eoger  Carey  closed  the  door,  and  the  flames 
of  the  candles  swerved  and  bent,  and  then  burned  in 


322  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

a  pointed  gleam,  she  had  stood  quite  still  for  a  mo 
ment.  She  looked  down  at  the  charred  bit  of  wood 
on  the  rug,  and  even  pushed  it  away  with  her  foot, 
and  stooped,  as  if  to  see  whether  the  white  fur  were 
burned.  Then  she  walked  the  length  of  the  room 
with  violent  haste,  and  stood,  panting. 

"  Suppose  he  had  kissed  me  ?  What  could  I  have 
done  ?  Why  did  n't  he  ?  He 's  not  a  fool." 

She  came  back  to  the  fire,  and  leaned  her  arms 
along  the  mantelpiece,  resting  her  forehead  on  them. 
She  felt  herself  smile  and  blush ;  and  she  shut  her 
eyes  and  closed  her  teeth  upon  her  lip.  She  stood 
there  a  long  time,  —  longer  than  Roger  Carey  sat  on 
the  bench  under  the  poplars.  And  when  at  last  a 
log  smouldered  through,  and  fell  apart  with  a  soft 
crash  of  sparks,  the  light  shone  upon  a  face  that 
was  full  of  a  strange  terror. 

She  went  over  to  her  writing-desk,  and  hunted 
among  the  litter  of  notes  and  papers,  and  found 
some  telegraph  blanks.  She  addressed  one  to  her 
husband,  but  she  sat  at  her  desk  a  long  time,  making 
idle  marks  upon  her  blotting  paper,  before  she  wrote : 
"  Pray  come  back  to  Old  Chester  at  once.  Impor 
tant." 

Cecil,  too,  had  had  a  glimpse  of  her  possibilities ; 
all  her  instincts  and  traditions  revolted  in  alarm. 
She  fled  to  cover ;  she  summoned  her  husband. 
u  Lyssie  —  Lyssie  —  Lyssie !  "  she  said  to  herself, 
her  face  hot  with  shame.  "  Oh,  he  is  good!''  she 
thought.  She  had  decided  swiftly  that  Philip 
should  give  up  his  foolery,  and  she  her  freedom,  be- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  323 

cause  Roger  Carey  was  "  good."  She  did  not  rea 
son  about  it,  but  she  wanted  to  meet  him  011  his  own 
level. 

It  was  curious  that,  as  he  fell,  he  lifted  Tier.  Yet, 
absorbed  in  the  selfishness  of  remorse,  —  and  no 
thing  may  be  more  selfish  than  remorse,  —  Roger, 
sitting  there  on  the  stone  bench,  had  not  a  thought 
for  Cecil  Shore  except  perhaps  of  dull  dislike. 

But  all  that  amazement  and  shame  had  been  last 
night.  By  daylight  things  looked  different ;  so  dif 
ferent  that,  standing  there  at  the  window,  in  Lyssie's 
parlor,  grumbling  at  the  rain,  he  assured  himself 
that  he  had  not  been  guilty  of  the  slightest  impro 
priety  ;  all  the  world  might  know  that,  seeing  Mrs. 
Shore  about  to  faint,  he  had  supported  her  —  and 
that  he  had  come  within  an  ace  of  kissing  her !  So 
long  as  he  did  n't  do  it,  what  an  ass  he  had  been  to 
feel  himself  dishonorable.  Good  Lord,  if  a  man  is 
to  agonize  because  he  has  had  the  impulse  to  kiss  a 
pretty  woman,  he  had  best  go  into  a  monastery  at 
once !  He  was  morosely  amused  at  himself.  He 
had  been  too  intense ;  and  the  reaction  was  an  irri 
tated  conviction  that  he  was  a  fool.  It  was  this  ir 
ritation  which  made  it  an  effort  to  speak  on  a  cer 
tain  subject  to  Lyssie :  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
ask  her  to  be  married  at  once ;  and  then,  as  he  put 
it  to  himself,  "  clear  out,  and  let  the  Shores  settle 
their  own  messes."  He  had  not,  in  this  connection, 
the  slightest  impulse  to  confess  to  Alicia  his  experi 
ence  of  the  night  before.  Confession  would  be  as 


324  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

absurd  as  his  remorse  had  been ;  he  never  thought 
of  it;  if  he  had,  it  would  have  been  to  say  that 
"  Lyssie  would  not  understand,"  —  in  which  he 
would  probably  have  been  correct.  No,  he  was  not 
going  to  confess ;  he  was  only  going  to  catch  at  her 
tender  hand  to  save  himself  from  his  possibilities. 
He  did  mean,  however,  to  say  that  he  was  not  good 
enough  to  tie  her  little  shoes  ;  and  having  told  so 
much  truth  as  that,  he  would  feel,  like  the  rest  of 
his  sex,  that  he  was  square  with  his  conscience. 
That  such  statements  only  enhance  his  virtue  in  his 
beloved's  eyes  never  troubles  a  man. 

Roger  Carey,  to  protect  himself,  was  going  to  beg 
Lyssie  to  name  the  day.  Now,  when  a  man  wants 
to  urge  a  speedy  marriage  on  the  girl  he  loves,  he 
may  well  hold  her  hand  in  his,  and  perhaps  kiss  the 
ringer  tips,  softly,  and  slip  an  arm  around  her  waist 
to  bring  her  shy  face  close  to  his,  that  he  may  hear 
her  whisper,  "  Yes  —  yes  ;  if  you  wish  it !  " 

But  any  action  seemed  an  effort  to  Roger  ;  he 
was  dull,  he  acknowledged  listlessly  ;  it  would  be 
easier  to  tramp  along  in  the  rain  and  hold  an  um 
brella  over  Lyssie's  head,  and  be  perhaps  just  a  little 
matter  of  fact.  He  was  glad  to  start  out ;  the 
fresh  air  would  brighten  him  up,  he  thought. 

The  street  was  quite  deserted.  Dr.  Lavendar's 
old  hooded  gig,  sagging  on  its  C  springs,  went  slowly 
past  them,  leaving  wheel-ruts  full  of  running  yellow 
water ;  the  shaggy  fetlocks  of  the  little  old  blind 
horse  came  up  from  each  step  with  a  pull,  and  went 
squashing  down  again  into  the  rnud. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  325 

"Well,  well,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar  over  the  rubber 
apron,  "  are  n't  you  young  folks  allowed  to  stay 
indoors  to-day?  Mr.  Carey,  you  're  welcome  to  my 
study,  if  Lyssie  won't  give  you  her  parlor.  What 
weather !  What  weather !  " 

"  Is  n't  it  funny,"  said  Alicia,  as  the  gig  bobbed 
along  ahead  of  them,  "  that  old  people  don't  seem  to 
see  the  pleasure  of  walking  in  the  rain?  " 

"  It  depends  on  whether  they  are  walking  with 
their  girls,"  Roger  explained. 

"  No,  it 's  pleasant  anyhow !  "  Roger's  girl  de 
clared.  Her  young  face  was  wet  with  mist,  and 
glowing  with  the  color  of  a  peach  blossom ;  her  eyes 
were  shining  under  the  dark  brim  of  her  hat. 

"  Lyssie,  do  you  know  what  I  was  thinking  about, 
- 1  mean  when  I  took  that  walk,  last  night  ?  I 
told  you  I  was  going  to  tell  you  what  I  was  thinking 
about." 

Lyssie's  face  sobered.     "  Cecil  ?  " 

"  No  !  Why  should  I  think  of  —  of  Mrs.  Shore  ? 
Oh,  you  mean  —  oh,  about  that  ?  That  '11  come 
out  all  right,"  he  said,  frowning.  "  I  was  thinking 
of  you,  Lyssie.  Look  here :  this  thing  of  seeing 
you  for  a  day,  and  then  going  off  for  a  month,  is 
preposterous.  I  can't  stand  it.  Let 's  put  a  stop 
to  it.  What  do  you  say?  This  is  the  28th 
of  October  ;  can't  it  be  on  the  1st  of  December  ? 
That 's  Wednesday.  I  looked  it  up  011  the  cal 
endar." 

"  Can't  what  be  ?  "  cried  Lyssie.  "  Why,  you 
don't  mean  —  Roger,  you  are  crazy  !  " 


326  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  I  never  was  more  sane.  Lyssie,  listen  !  Don't 
laugh.  And  please  say  4  yes.'  ' 

"  What  are  you  talking  about?"  she  said.  "I 
never  heard  of  anything  so  absurd  ;  you  might  as 
well  ask  me  to  fly  !  "  And  then  she  sobered  a  little. 
"  It 's  simply  impossible,  you  know.  In  a  month  ? 
If  you  had  said  a  year,  I  should  have  laughed." 

"  I  should  have  laughed  if  I  had  said  a  year.  Be 
serious,  Lys.  Lots  of  people  are  married  when  they 
have  n't  been  engaged  as  long  as  we  have.  There  's 
no  reason  to  wait.  It 's  just  waste  of  time.  Let 's 
begin  to  be  happy.  I  know  of  a  house,  and  I  can 
have  it  all  in  order  by  the  1st  of  December." 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  couldn't.  It  takes  ever 
so  much  longer  to  put  a  house  in  order—  Oh 
dear !  "  she  interrupted  herself,  "  would  n't  it  be 
lovely?"  All  the  domesticity  of  the  sweet  woman 
stirred  in  her,  just  as  some  women's  eyes  lighten 
when  they  look  at  the  picture  of  a  baby.  "  Yes,  it 
takes  a  long  time  to  put  a  house  in  order ;  but  that 
isn't  the  question.  I  couldn't,  possibly,  Roger." 

"Couldn't  what?  " 

"  Be —  married,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him  with 
clear,  sweet  eyes,  but  with  the  pretty  color  deepen 
ing  suddenly  in  her  face.  "  Oh,  I  could  n't  for  ever 
so  long." 

Roger  looked  at  her  blankly,  standing  still,  and 
holding  the  umbrella  over  his  own  head. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?     Can't  be  married  for  a 
long  time  ?     Dear,  consider  !  " 
^He  was  very  gentle.     Her  shyness  seemed  so  ex- 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  327 

quisite.  He  had  no  idea  of  her  reason.  It  was  not 
until  they  began  to  climb  the  hill  on  the  further  side 
of  Old  Chester  that  he  realized  that  she  was  unwill 
ing  to  leave  her  mother. 

"  I  'm  young,"  she  said  ;  "  I  can  wait." 

"  Well,  but  what  about  me  ?  "  he  asked,  in  the 
simplicity  of  his  astonishment. 

Then  Alicia  looked  at  him  with  pathetic  anxiety 
in  her  eyes  that  her  ideal  should  not  fail  her. 
"  Would  n't  it  be  just  thinking  of  ourselves,  if  we  — 
got  married  now  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  who  else  ought  to  be 
thought  of !  And  look  here  :  you  may  have  a  right 
to  sacrifice  your  own  life,  but  do  you  think  you 
have  a  right  to  sacrifice  mine  ?  And  that 's  what  you 
will  do,  you  little  saint !  Lyssie  darling,  if  the  1st 
of  December  is  too  soon,  really  and  seriously,  why  of 
course  I  '11  not  urge.  I  '11  put  it  off  a  month,  or 
even  two  months." 

Alicia  was  silent  with  dismay.  They  had  stopped 
on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  turned  to  look  down  into 
the  valley,  lying  in  a  gray  mist.  The  low  sumacs 
that  fringed  the  road  were  still  burning  their  small 
red  torches,  but  they  had  dropped  a  carpet  of  crim 
son  leaves  upon  the  path.  Eric,  very  muddy,  and 
panting,  flung  himself  down  to  rest ;  no  doubt  he 
thought  of  the  fire  and  the  rug,  and  decided  that  his 
two  young  friends  were  fools. 

All  Roger's  listlessness  had  gone ;  Alicia's  resist 
ance  made  her  more  charming  than  he  had  ever  seen 
her.  As  they  walked  back,  he  began  again,  so  con- 


328  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

fidently  that  her  little  sad  interruption,  "  It 's  im 
possible,  Roger,"  was  like  the  steel  to  his  flint.  But 
it  brought  love  as  well  as  anger  into  his  voice. 

"  I  believe  you  'd  like  to  put  it  off  a  year  !  "  he 
*  declared. 

"  A  year  ?  "  returned  Alicia,  sighing.  "  There 's 
no  use  thinking  of  a  year;  perhaps  in  two,  in 
three  —  " 

"  In  three  years  !  " 

"  Oh,  Roger,  don't !    Somebody  will  hear.    Roger, 
listen.     Why  is  n't  it  happiness  enough  to  go  on  a 
little  while  as  we  are  ?     You  know  I  love  you." 
"  I  hope  you  do,"  he  answered  meanly. 
"  You  know  it.     And  I  don't  see  why  that  is  n't 
enough,  —  just  to  know  I  love  you." 

"  Well,  it  is  n't,"  Roger  said,  half  mollified  by 
her  voice  and  words  ;  and  he  proclaimed  a  dozen 
reasons  to  the  contrary ;  in  his  earnestness,  he 
almost  touched  the  true  reason:  "I  need  you,  Lys- 
sie." 

"  But  mother  needs  me,  and  — 
"  She  '11  need  you  forever,  if  you  're  going  to  let 
that  come  into  it,"  he  interrupted  angrily,  again  for 
getting  to  hold  the   umbrella  over  her  head,  and 
gesticulating  with  it  to  emphasize  his  words.     "  Be 
sides,  I  need  you  as  no  mere  mother  can." 
Alicia  was  silent. 

Roger  talked  on  until  they  reached  home ;  then 
he  paused  long  enough  to  take  off  her  rubbers  and 
scold  her  for  being  damp. 

"  Eric's  feet  must  be  wiped  before  he  can  come 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  329 

into  the  house,"  said  Lyssie  absently,  and  went  to 
get  a  cloth. 

Roger,  looking  cross  and  worried,  wiped  the  great 
paws ;  and  Lyssie,  watching  him,  laughed  nervously 
at  the  dog's  serious  expression,  and  his  sudden  affec 
tion  in  trying  to  lick  his  friend's  cheek  ;  but  Roger 
never  smiled.  Then  they  went  into  the  parlor,  and 
Roger  put  a  log  on  the  fire,  and  Alicia  took  up  the 
bellows  and  sent  a  puff  of  flame  and  smoke  crackling 
up  the  chimney,  and  the  discussion  went  on  as  though 
there  had  been  no  interruption. 

"  You  say  your  mother  needs  you.  Dear,  I  need 
you.  Your  husband  needs  you,  Lyssie." 

The  sudden  color  throbbed  in  her  face,  but  she 
did  not  answer.  Roger  could  not  see  how  she  was 
trembling,  for  she  held  the  bellows  hard  to  keep  her 
fingers  steady. 

"  And  see  the  effect  of  your  unreasonableness," 
he  went  on  :  "  you  make  me  —  well,  annoyed  at 
your  mother.  Of  course  it  is  n't  fair  to  be  annoyed 
at  her  because  of  your  —  your  obstinacy  (that 's 
the  only  word) !  but  I  can't  help  it." 

Alicia  looked  at  him  hopelessly.  "  I  don't  seem 
able  to  put  it  right,  or  else  you  would  n't  feel  so. 
Oh,  I  think  it  would  kill  her  if  I  got  married 
now." 

"  Kill  her  !  "  said  Roger,  and  paused,  for  it  would 
scarcely  do  to  express  his  belief  that  there  was  no 
such  luck  to  be  expected.  "  Kill  her  !  Why,  in  the 
first  place,  she  has  all  the  wonderful  vitality  of  the 
invalid ;  it  would  n't  kill  her  at  all.  She  'd  be  aw- 


330  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

fully  interested  ;  and  it 's  the  best  thing  in  the  world 
for  hypochon  —  I  mean  for  people  sick  as  she  is,  to 
be  interested.  It  makes  them  forget  themselves. 
And  then  she  'd  enjoy  coming  to  visit  us  sometimes, 
and  —  " 

"  Visit  us  ?  "  Lyssie  broke  in  blankly. 

"  Why,"  said  Eoger,  as  blankly,  "  you  did  n't 
think  she  'd  live  with  us  ?  "  And  then  they  looked 
at  each  other. 

"  If  you  wish  it,  of  course,"  Roger  hastened  to 
say ;  but  in  his  own  mind  he  added,  "  Good  Lord !  " 

"  I  had  thought  so  —  when  the  time  came,"  Lys 
sie  faltered. 

"  Dear,  with  all  due  regard  for  your  mother,  — 
and  you  know  I  'm  very  fond  of  her,  —  but  as  a 
matter  of  common  sense,  I  do  think  it  is  a  mistake 
for  people  to  have  their  mothers-in-law  live  with 
them.  I  mean  any  mother-in-law,  even  a  nice  one 
- 1  'm  not  making  this  personal  to  Mrs.  Drayton. 
Lyssie,  please  don't  think  I  mean  to  be  unkind !  " 
he  ended,  in  a  burst.  "  I  'm  very  fond  of  her,  you 
know." 

Lyssie  drew  in  her  breath,  and  looked  away  from 
him. 

"  I  M  say  it  of  my  own  mother,  if  she  were  alive," 
he  protested,  "and  she  was  an  angel.  But  she 
never  would  have  wanted  to  live  with  us ;  she  had 
too  much  sense,"  he  floundered  on. 

"  I  don't  want  to  thrust  my  mother  on  any  one," 
said  Alicia.  "  I  had  thought  she  would  have  a  home 
with  us ;  but  —  never  mind." 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  331 

Roger  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  he  told  her, 
as  courteously  as  though  he  were  not  engaged  to 
her,  "Your  wish  settles  it,  my  darling.  And  of 
course  your  mother  is  always  welcome  in  my  house. 
But  if  she  is  to  come  to  us,  you  must  see  that 
there  's  no  reason  why  we  should  n't  be  married  at 
once." 

"  There  's  every  reason,  Roger.  For  one  thing, 
she  '11  have  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  leaving  her 
own  home.  It  would  be  dreadful  for  her.  I 
have  n't  even  dared  to  propose  it  to  her  yet.  But  I 
will.  I  promise  you  I  will.  And  perhaps  in  two 
years,  or  a  little  more  — 

Roger  tramped  back  and  forth  across  the  room. 
Eric  sprang  up  joyfully  arid  capered  to  the  door; 
but  nobody  noticed  him,  and  he  subsided  under  the 
piano. 

"  Lyssie,"  the  young  man  demanded,  standing 
before  her,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  "have  you 
made  any  promise  to  your  mother  about  this  thing?  " 

"  I  said  something  once.  But  that  has  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  It  is  n't  because  of  my  promise.  It 's 
because  I  must  n't." 

"  Well,  may  I  ask  how  long  you  are  going  to  pre 
fer  your  mother  to  me?" 

"  Oh,  Roger  ! " 

"  You  need  n't  say  4  Oh,  Roger  ! '  That 's  what 
it  amounts  to  ;  but  Lyssie,  don't,  don't  push  me  off 
this  way  !  There  's  so  much  uncertainty ;  and  —  I 
do  need  you.  Don't  push  me  off ! "  His  voice 
trembled. 


332  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

Lyssie,  her  fingers  quite  cold,  her  voice  breaking, 
came  up  to  him,  and  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders. 

"  I  '11  have  to  tell  you.  I  did  n't  mean  to,  but 
I  '11  have  to  tell  you.  Then  you  '11  understand." 
And  with  her  face  naming  with  shame  and  pain,  she 
told  him  of  Mrs.  Drayton's  threat  of  suicide. 

Roger  Carey  listened,  —  grimly,  at  first ;  then  he 
swore  under  his  breath  ;  then  he  laughed,  with  the 
exuberance  of  gleeful  relief  and  contempt. 

"  You  poor  blessed  child !  don't  you  know  what 
that 's  worth  ?  Just  that !  "  and  he  snapped  his 
fingers.  "  Kill  herself  ?  She  '11  outlive  us  both  ; 
they  always  do !  "  He  would  have  kissed  her,  though 
he  was  still  irritated :  but  she  was  rigid,  and  drew 
away  from  him  stiffly. 

"  You  must  n't  say  such  things.  You  have  no 
right  to  say  such  things.  You  are  cruel !  " 

Her  anger  lasted  only  long  enough  to  kindle  his  ; 
he  was  already  out  of  patience.  He  said  something 
bitter  about  "selfishness,"  and  "that  sort  of  love," 
and  "  having  been  mistaken,  no  doubt,  in  her  feeling 
for  him."  He  did  not  mean  what  he  said,  but,  un 
fortunately,  the  effect  of  such  statements  is  not  in 
proportion  to  their  sincerity. 

Alicia's  face  whitened  and  whitened.  These  two 
young  persons,  with  the  little  work-table  between 
them,  and  Eric's  head  poking  itself  under  Alicia's 
nervous  hand  and  upsetting  Roger's  tottering 
columns  of  spools,  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  and 
used  words  like  swords,  while  each  declared  the 
other  wrong. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  333 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  dismiss  me  ?  " 
said  Roger  Carey. 

"  You  shall  not  put  it  upon  me !  "  Lyssie  cried 
piteously.  "It  is  n't  my  fault.  You  are  perfectly 
selfish  about  it.  I  am  doing  what  is  right.  Of 
course  our  engagement  is  broken,  but  it  isn't  my 
fault !  " 

"  Of  course  not ;  there  's  no  fault  about  it.  You 
simply  choose  between  your  mother  and  me.  I  don't 
blame  you ;  I  'd  be  the  last  person  in  the  world 
to  blame  you.  I  always  told  you  I  was  n't  worthy 
of  you,  and  I  suppose  now  you  've  discovered  it  for 
yourself." 

Lyssie  was  silent. 

"  Well,  good-by.  I  —  oh  well,  there  's  no  use 
talking !  Good-by." 

Roger  swung  himself  out  of  the  door  and  out  of 
the  house  without  another  look.  He  had  never  been 
so  much  in  love  with  her  before. 

Eric  jumped  up  with  a  great  bound ;  the  work- 
table  rocked,  and  all  the  spools  went  rolling  about 
on  the  floor  ;  then  he  whined,  and  scratched,  and 
looked  at  Alicia,  and  whined  again. 

She,  with  poor  trembling  hands,  and  wi£h  the 
breath  catching  in  her  young  throat,  opened  the 
front  door,  and  the  dog,  impatient  for  his  friend, 
rushed  past  her,  and  went  bounding  with  splendid 
leaps  out  into  the  rain. 


XXVI. 

When  I  was  thine  and  them  wast  mine, 
And  all  these  things  were  thus, 
But  all  our  world  in  us  ? 

Could  we  he  so  now  ? 
Not  if  all  heneath  Heaven's  pall 
Lay  dead  but  I  and  thou, 
Could  we  be  so  now ! 

ROSSETTI. 

LITTLE  Lyssie  could  not,  just  at  first,  tell  even 
her  mother  of  her  broken  engagement.  There  had 
to  be  hours  of  staggering  on  alone,  dumbly,  under 
her  grief.  She  went  about  her  daily  duties  on  Sun 
day  and  Monday,  dry-eyed  and  calm.  She  had 
taken  off  her  ring,  looking  at  it  silently  a  long  time 
before  she  put  it  away.  She  was  too  unconscious  of 
self,  and  unfamiliar  with  the  conventions  of  life,  to 
think  of  sending  it  back  to  Roger.  Her  mother  did 
not  notice  its  absence  from  the  slim,  girlish  hand  ; 
Mrs.  Drayton  had  too  many  cares  of  her  own  to 
notice  such  things ;  she  "  was  failing  rapidly,"  she 
told  every  one  who  came  to  see  her.  "  But  perhaps 
it  is  just  as  well,  for  now  Lyssie  is  happy,  I  am  no 
longer  needed,"  she  sighed  ;  and  added  that  Alicia's 
present  selfish  absorption  in  her  own  happiness  was 
doubtless  the  Lord's  way  of  driving  her,  Mrs. 
Drayton,  closer  to  Him  for  companionship  ;  which, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  335 

to  the  curious  mind,  opened  up  interesting  questions 
as  to  the  propriety  of  the  Lord's  methods. 

But  if  Mrs.  Drayton  was  no  longer  needed,  she 
had  still  some  needs.  When  Alicia  began  to  creep 
out  of  her  daze  of  pain,  and  feel  tears  starting  in 
her  eyes  and  a  sob  swelling  in  her  throat,  and  recog 
nize  that  she  must  have  the  relief  of  speaking,  Mrs. 
Drayton  "  needed  "  her  so  much  that  it  was  not  easy 
to  fly  to  Cecil  to  tell  her  troubles,  as  it  was  her  im 
pulse  to  do. 

"I  think  I  '11  go  and  see  Cecil,  mother  dear,"  she 
said,  "and  Esther  will  bring  your  dinner  up.  I 
may  not  be  at  home  for  dinner." 

"  Esther  ?  "  returned  Mrs.  Drayton,  opening  her 
eyes.  "  Oh,  Lyssie,  you  know  how  I  dislike  to  have 
Esther  come  into  the  room  when  my  nerves  are  so 
racked !  " 

But  Alicia,  for  once,  thought  of  herself.  She  felt 
that  she  must  be  with  Cecil;  she  must  put  her 
head  on  her  sister's  breast,  and  cry,  and  cry,  and 
cry.  She  could  not  come  back  so  early  as  dinner 
time. 

"  Oh,  mother  darling,"  she  entreated,  "  if  you 
would  n't  mind  just  this  once !  Oh,  I  must  see 
Cecil,"  she  said,  in  a  sort  of  wail,  and  then  steadied 
herself,  her  breath  catching.  "  I  '11  fix  your  tray, 
dear,  all  nicely,  and  then  you  won't  mind  letting 
Esther  bring  it  in  ?  " 

Mrs.  Drayton  closed  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  go,  of 
course.  Don't  mind  me.  But  I  don't  want  Esther 
to  bring  in  the  tray.  I  '11  wait,  and  have  my  dinner 


336  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

when  you  come  home.  I  suppose  you  '11  be  home  by 
tea-time  ?  Oh,  Lyssie,  when  I  am  gone,  I  hope  you 
won't  remember  things  like  this !  Remorse  is  very 
painful.  But  I  have  such  a  sensitive  conscience ; 
perhaps  you  won't  suffer  as  I  should." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  neglectful,  mother,  but  — 

"  Oh  well,  I  shan't  allow  you  to  stay  at  home 
now.  I  only  spoke  of  your  selfishness  from  the 
highest  motives,  —  because  it  was  my  duty,  not  be 
cause  I  wanted  to  keep  you  at  home.  My  motives 
are  always  the  highest  and  the  best.  For  myself,  I 
don't  mind  waiting  for  my  dinner  until  it 's  con 
venient  for  you.  I  have  little  enough  appetite,  any 
how." 

Of  course  Lyssie  brought  up  the  tray. 

In  the  afternoon,  as  she  went  up  the  hill,  she 
thought,  almost  for  the  first  time  in  these  two  days, 
of  Cecil's  own  troubles;  and  yet  Cecil's  troubles 
only  made  her  think  of  Roger's  promptitude  in  help 
ing  them.  Compared  to  a  broken  engagement,  how 
foolish  and  unreal  seemed  the  senseless  quarrels  be 
tween  husband  and  wife !  Beside,  it  was  all  right 
now;  Roger  had  said  so  —  Boger !  and  the  long- 
withheld  tears  rose  burning  to  her  eyes.  She  felt 
as  though  she  could  hardly  wait  to  reach  Cecil,  and 
as  she  went  swiftly  into  the  house,  and  upstairs,  she 
had  only  a  word  for  Molly  who  was  playing  with 
her  dolls  in  the  hall. 

She  found  Cecil's  room  empty  of  everything  but 
confusion.  Two  great  trunks,  half  packed,  took  up 
much  space ;  the  small  pictures  and  photographs, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  337 

the  pleasant  litter  of  books  and  little  dainty  furnish 
ings,  stood  forlornly  about  on  tables  or  chairs,  wait 
ing  to  be  packed;  the  curtains  had  been  taken 
down,  and  a  streak  of  pale  sunshine  fell  across  the 
carpet  and  into  the  fireplace,  laying  a  moving  finger 
on  the  busy  fire,  whitening  the  flame,  and  glittering 
on  the  brass  andirons. 

"  Oh,  she  's  going  away !  "  thought  Lyssie  hope 
lessly.  Then  she  went  into  the  hall,  and  called  her 
sister  in  a  listless  voice.  Cecil  answered  from  the 
floor  above,  and  a  moment  later  came  downstairs. 
She  kissed  Lyssie,  and  shut  the  door,  and  threw  her 
self  down  on  the  lounge. 

"  I  'm  tired  to  death !  "  she  said  crossly.  "  I  had 
a  headache  last  night,  and  endured  the  torments  of 
the  very  bad,  and  could  n't  sleep ;  and  now  to-day 
I  've  had  to  see  about  closing  the  house.  Should  n't 
you  think,  with  four  able-bodied  women,  this  house 
could  be  closed  without  supervision  ?  Where  have 
you  been,  Lys?  I  haven't  been  able  to  hunt  you 
up,  I  've  had  so  much  to  do." 

"  You  are  going  away?" 

"  Yes.  I  telegraphed  Philip  to  come  back.  I  've 
thought  it  over,  and  I  've  decided  that  —  I  won't 
leave  him.  But  we  must  get  back  to  town." 

"  I  'm  so  glad  everything  is  smooth,"  Lyssie  said 
absently.  "  Cecil,  I  want  to  tell  you  something." 
She  sat  down  on  the  floor  beside  Cecil's  couch, 
twisting  her  fingers  in  the  soft  white  rug,  and  see 
ing  the  pallid  flames  in  the  sunny  fireplace  flicker 
in  two  great  tears  that  trembled  behind  her  eye- 


338  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

lids.  "  Koger  and  I  have  broken  our  engagement, 
Ceci." 

Cecil  sat  upright,  and  opened  her  lips  for  a  reply ; 
but  she  was  speechless.  There  was  alarm,  but 
amusement  too,  in  her  face.  Was  it  possible  that 
Roger  Carey  had  been  so  absurd  as  to  tell  —  But 
there  was  nothing  to  tell ! 

"  Ly8  !  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ?  What  did 
he  say  to  you  ?  Now,  Lyssie,  don't  be  absurd ! 
Break'  your  engagement?  He  hasn't  done  any 
thing  that —  " 

"  Of  course  he  has  n't  done  anything ;  it  is  n't  his 
fault.  He  wanted  to  be  married  right  off,  —  next 
month.  And  I  couldn't.  You  know  I  couldn't, 
Cecil.  How  could  I  leave  mother  ?  And  he  did  n't 
want  to  wait;  and  so  —  and  so  —  "  And  at  last 
came  the  relief  of  a  fit  of  crying,  with  her  face  on 
Cecil's  knees,  her  arms  about  her  waist. 

"  Did  he  —  did  he  want  to  be  married  right 
away  ? "  Cecil  said  slowly  above  Lyssie's  bowed 
head.  Was  it  possible  that  it  had  been  so  much  to 
him  as  that  ?  Oh,  it  was  well  she  had  sent  for  her 
husband!  She  was  frightened,  exulting,  renoun 
cing,  all  at  once.  But  mechanically  she  stroked 
Lyssie's  head,  and  murmured  vaguely,  "  It  will  all 
come  right.  I  shall  make  it  come  right."  Oh,  she 
was  glad  she  had  sent  for  Philip ! 

"  If  I  could  only  just  die !  "  Lyssie  said. 

Cecil  listened  with  angry  remorse  ;  she  put  her 
arms  about  Alicia  impetuously,  and  her  voice  broke 
with  tenderness.  "  There,  darling,  don't  cry.  Lyssie, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  339 

it  breaks  my  heart  to  have  you  cry."  It  came  to 
her  with  a  great  impulse  of  affection  that  she  would 
bring  Roger  Carey  back  to  his  duty.  "  Now,  dear, 
stop  crying,"  she  said  heartily.  "  No  man  is  worth 
so  many  tears.  I  '11  see  him  in  town,  and  I  can 
patch  it  up ;  with  no  injury  to  your  pride,  of 
course." 

"  Pride  ?  Oh,  Ceci,  I  have  n't  any  pride  !  Why, 
I  'd  go  and  kneel  down  before  him  if  I  had  been 
wrong,  or  if  I  could  make  him  feel  differently ;  only, 
it 's  the  principle,  don't  you  see  ?  We  could  never 
be  happy,  if  he  couldn't  feel  as  I  do  about  mother." 

"Lyssie,  that  is  absurd;  of  course  he  couldn't 
feel  as  you  do  about  Mrs.  Dray  ton." 

"  But  he  said  —  oh,  I  can't  tell  you  how  he  spoke 
of  her.  He  does  n't  love  her  ;  I  know  he  does  n't." 

"  But  good  gracious,  child,  why  should  he  ?  He 
does  n't  know  Mrs.  Dra;y  con.  Do  you  expect  him  to 
divine  all  her  admirable  qualities  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  Ceci,  he  could  n't  ever  have  loved  me, 
if  he  feels  that  way  about  her." 

Cecil's  impatience  at  this  did  Lyssie  good.  Not 
that  she  thought  her  lover  would  come  back  to  her, 
but  it  made  her  feel  that  she,  too,  had  been  to  blame, 
a  little  ;  that  it  was  not  all  his  fault. 

She  sat  there,  leaning  against  Cecil,  talking  out 
her  aching  heart,  while  the  room  darkened,  and  the 
fire  glowed  and  brightened.  She  was  less  miserable, 
she  thought,  now  that  she  had  told  her  sister,  yet 
she  realized,  heavily,  that  though  she  might  be  com 
forted,  she  had  nothing  to  hope  for.  She  Jy 

^  \  BRA 

OF  TH1 


340  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

poor  child,  that  beneath  all  these  superficial  explana 
tions  which  she  was  making,  the  real  difficulty  of  the 
situation  lay  in  the  fact  that  she  and  Roger  could 
part ;  not  that  they  had  parted.  Cecil  said  very 
little.  Her  color  deepened  once,  suddenly,  and  she 
smiled  ;  then  she  set  her  teeth  hard  upon  her  lip,  and 
drew  in  her  breath,  and  looked  down  upon  Lyssie's 
bowed  head. 

"  Lys  dear,  I  'm  sure  he  will  come  back ;  and  you 
must  forgive  him." 

"  You  don't  understand.  You  don't  see  how  bad 
it  is.  His  coming  back  would  n't  make  any  differ 
ence  in  the  question  of  mother." 

"  The  4  question  of  mother '  will  settle  itself," 
Cecil  declared,  and  paused,  listening.  "  That  is  the 
stage  !  "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  She  put  her  hands 
up  to  her  eyes  a  moment.  "  Philip  has  come,  Lys." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  go  !  "  Alicia  said  quickly. 

Cecil  made  no  effort  to  detain  her.  She  was  im 
patient  to  be  through  with  what  she  had  to  say  to  her 
husband. 

Philip,  however,  was  in  no  haste  to  see  his  wife ; 
he  was  hungry  and  thirsty  for  his  child. 

Molly  was  in  the  nursery,  and  when  he  opened 
the  door  she  flew  toward  him  with  a  shriek  of  delight. 

"  Oh,  Molly,  let  me  fasten  your  dress,"  Rosa  ex 
postulated. 

Philip  took  the  child  in  his  arms  passionately, 
"  I  '11  finish  dressing  her.  Say  to  Mrs.  Shore  that  I 
have  come.  I  '11  bring  Molly  down  to  dinner." 

He  sat  down,  and  Molly,  standing  between  his 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  341 

knees,  demanded  eagerly,  "  Father,  what  did  you 
bring  me  for  a  present  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  don't  say  you  wanted  a  present !  " 
Philip  remonstrated  with  great  show  of  dismay.  At 
which  Molly  joyously  flung  herself  upon  him  and 
hunted  for  his  pockets. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  have  your  pockets  hung  on  the 
outside,"  she  informed  him,  rumaging  through  his 
coat. 

"  You  can't  have  presents  until  you  are  dressed," 
her  father  said,  trying  to  button  her  frock  down  her 
little  back.  But  his  hands  were  trembling.  "  How 
does  this  thing  go,  Polly  ?  " 

"You  put  the  holes  over  the  buttons,"  Molly 
instructed  him.  "  Hurry,  father  !  I  want  my  pres 
ent.  Oh,  father,  that  feels  queer ;  it  pulls.  I  don't 
think  Rosa  fastens  it  that  way." 

"  It  looks  queer,"  Philip  admitted  anxiously. 
"  Have  n't  you  got  anything  easier  to  put  on  than 
this  ?  "  And  between  them  they  took  off  the  some 
what  elaborate  frock,  and  Molly  frisked  about  before 
the  fire,  in  her  petticoat.  Philip  got  her  on  his 
knee,  and  cuddled  her  inside  his  coat  to  keep  her 
warm,  and  told  her  a  marvelous  tale  of  gnomes  and 
fairies.  He  rested  his  cheek  upon  her  soft,  straight 
hair,  and  felt  her  little  warm  body  against  his  heart, 
and  gathered  her  swinging  foot  into  his  hand.  Once 
his  voice  shook  so  that  Molly  noticed  it. 

"  Father,  why  did  you  laugh?  "  she  said  reproach 
fully,  for  it  chanced  to  be  at  an  affecting  point  in 
the  tale. 


342  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  I  did  n't  laugh,"  Philip  told  her,  truthfully 
enough.  "  Now  let 's  find  an  easy  dress  to  put  on, 
and  then  look  for  presents  !  " 

The  toilet  accomplished,  the  presents  were  dis 
covered  to  have  been  left  on  a  chair  outside  the 
nursery-door.  Molly,  quivering  with  excitement 
and  happiness,  tore  off  the  wrappers,  and  uttered  a 
succession  of  shrieks  as  each  new  joy  revealed  itself, 
—  a  tin  steamboat,  a  picture-book,  a  little  bow  and 
arrow.  At  last,  fairly  tired  out  with  pleasure,  she 
gathered  her  treasures  in  the  skirt  of  her  dress,  with 
a  long,  happy  sigh. 

"  I  'm  going  to  put  'em  in  my  trunk.  Do  you 
think  I  can  shoot  my  bow  and  arrow  on  the  ship  ?  " 

Philip's  exclamation  made  her  look  up ;  but  he 
said  nothing  of  the  ship.  He  told  her  that  he  had 
an  idea  there  was  a  small  box  in  his  waistcoat  pocket ; 
did  she  care  to  look  ?  Her  eager  eyes  showed  how 
much  she  cared.  The  box  found  and  opened,  a  little 
ring  revealed  itself,  —  a  tiny  thread  of  gold  clasping 
a  small  dark  garnet  shaped  like  a  heart.  Philip's 
hand  was  unsteady  as  he  slipped  it  on  her  finger, 
but  his  words  were  gay  enough,  and  he  gave  her  a 
kiss,  and  perched  her  on  his  shoulder  in  the  way  in 
which  he  always  ended  their  frolics. 

But  his  face  was  ghastly  when  they  reached  the 
dining-room. 

Cecil  met  her  husband  with  an  affectation  of  care 
lessness.  He  was  very  good  to  have  come  so  promptly, 
she  said.  She  found  a  good  deal  of  fault  with  the 
dinner  ;  she  spoke  sharply  to  Molly  once  or  twice : 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  343 

she  told  John,  in  a  low  voice,  that  his  silver  was  dis 
gracefully  dull,  and  the  man  blushed  to  his  ears  ;  she 
looked  at  her  husband  across  the  table,  sometimes, 
with  a  cold  dislike  in  her  eyes,  very  different  from 
the  old  good-natured  contempt. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  come  into  the  library,  Philip,  when 
you  Ve  finished  your  cigar,"  she  said,  when  dinner 
was  over. 

He  rose  at  once.  "  No,  Polly  ;  run  upstairs  to 
Rosa,  darling,"  he  told  Molly,  who  demurred,  but 
obeyed. 

Philip  could  scarcely  wait  to  close  the  library- 
door  before  he  burst  out :  "  I  •  shall  not  consent  to 
Molly's  going  to  Europe  !  Neither  you  nor  I  have 
the  right  to  take  her  where  the  other  can't  see  her." 

"Will  you  please  wait  until  Europe  has  been 
mentioned  ?  "  Cecil  said.  She  was  standing  by  the 
fire,  her  hand  resting  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  one 
foot  upon  the  brass  fender.  "  I  don't  mean  to  take 
Molly  abroad.  I  don't  mean  to  go  myself." 

-  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Philip  stammered. 

"  No,"  she  went  on,  without  turning  her  head,  "  no ; 
I  am  not  going  anywhere  —  except  to  town,  as  soon 
as  I  can  possibly  get  there.  These  idiots  of  ours 
apparently  want  weeks  to  pack  up  in !  But  I  think 
I  can  get  off  on  Friday." 

"  Why  didn't  you  send  for  me  sooner?  I  could 
have  hurried  things.  I  suppose  you  've  sent  word 
to  town,  and  the  house  will  be  in  order  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  ;  I  telegraphed  when  —  when  I  decided. 
You  did  n't  share  your  legal  information  with  me, 


344  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Philip,"  she  said,  over  her  shoulder,  and  laughed  ; 
then  she  turned  round  and  faced  him,  her  eyes  full 
of  hate.  "  I  suppose  you  were  afraid  I  would  take 
advantage  of  you  ?  You  see  I  have  had  some  legal 
information.  I  know  that  Molly  belongs  to  me." 

"  So  far  as  any  legal  question  goes,"  he  answered 
coldly,  "  we  both  knew  the  probabilities  when  I  went 
away.  There  seemed  to  be  no  reason  why  I  should 
communicate  with  you  until  you  had  decided  what 
you  wished  to  do  at  present.  As  for  Molly"  —he 
paused  ;  "  you  know  my  wishes.  Her  time  must  be 
divided  between  us." 

"  If  I  agree !  "  she  reminded  him,  with  strident 
malice  in  her  tone.  "  I  may  not  agree,  you  know. 
But  grant,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  I  do :  do 
you  think,  devoted  father,  that  my  influence  over  her 
is  good  ?  Oh,  pray  don't  hesitate,  on  any  grounds  of 
politeness,  from  expressing  your  opinion,  —  I  know 
what  it  is  ;  I  ask,  only  because  I  want  to  understand 
why  you  are  willing  to  resign  her  to  the  tender  mer 
cies  of  the  wicked  for  six  months  in  every  year." 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  said  Philip  Shore  grimly. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  had  a  choice,"  she  assured  him. 
"  You  could  have  given  up  being  so  good,  could  n't 
you,  and  stayed  with  her  ?  But  I  did  n't  mean  to 
discuss  it.  I  only  asked  out  of  curiosity.  It  does  n't 
really  matter.  The  fact  is,  this  is  all  nonsense, 
Philip.  I  sent  for  you  just  to  tell  you  that  it  is 
nonsense." 

"  What  is  nonsense  ?  " 

"  Oh,  this  plan  of  ours.     Come,  now,  you  ought 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  345 

to  be  flattered !  I  can't  tear  myself  away  from  you. 
I  Ve  decided  not  to  leave  you." 

It  seemed  to  Philip  Shore  as  though  the  ground 
moved  suddenly  under  his  feet.  He  grew  white,  and 
did  not  speak. 

Cecil  looked  at  him.  "  See  here,  Philip,"  she  said 
kindly.  "  I  quite  understand  that  this  takes  you  by 
surprise ;  but  things  need  n't  be  changed,  really. 
You  can  go  abroad,  if  you  want  to,  for  a  while. 
Only,  I  've  decided  not  to  do  anything  public."  She 
sat  down  wearily,  and  reached  over  for  the  paper 
cutter,  playing  with  it  restlessly,  as  she  had  done  on 
that  other  night  when  she  had  consented  to  Philip's 
proposition.  She  bent  the  broad  tortoise-shell  blade 
back  and  forth  against  the  palm  of  her  hand,  and 
then  held  it  up  between  her  eyes  and  the  lamp,  and 
yawned  slightly.  "  This  winter  I  shall  go  out  a 
great  deal.  You  can  put  Molly  to  bed  every  night, 
if  you  want  to,  in  intervals  of '  learning  to  be  an 
artist,'  as  Mrs.  Drayton  says." 

She  was  so  perfectly  matter  of  course  that  Philip's 
astounded  questions  died  upon  his  lips.  He  said 
quietly,  "  What  are  your  reasons  for  changing  your 
mind  ?  " 

"  Reasons  ?  Oh,  as  Molly  says  about  step-grand 
mothers,  '  they  don't  count.'  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  reasons.  It  is  convenient';  that's  enough. 
I  'm  willing  to  go  back.  I  'm  willing  to  let  things  be 
as  they  were.  That 's  all.  But  don't,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  talk  about  it !  " 

She  was  feverishly  anxious  to  get  through  and  be 


346  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

alone,  and  have  the  chance  to  think.  She  had  not 
dared  to  face  the  fact  that  Roger  Carey  was  free  un 
til  she  had  made  herself  a  prisoner  again.  But  now, 
having  taken  up  her  chains,  she  wanted  to  think  the 
whole  thing  out ;  to  realize  what  his  desire  for  a 
speedy  marriage  meant ;  to  give  free  rein  to  that 
fierce  satisfaction  of  conquest,  which  in  such  a  wo 
man  has  an  almost  masculine  intensity,  but  which, 
it  must  be  admitted,  is  not  confined  to  such  women. 
The  Very  Good  can  experience  it  —  if  the  opportu 
nity  is  afforded  them. 

fc'  We  've  got  to  talk  about  it.  You  seem  to  forget 
that  the  principle  underlying  this  idea  of  separa 
tion  transcends  any  mere  personal  convenience." 

"  Ah,  but  Philip,  you  forget ;  I  have  no  princi 
ples  !  I  tell  you  I  can't  tear  myself  away  from  you. 
Isn't  that  enough?" 

"  What  are  your  reasons  ?  " 

"  They  are  my  own,  at  least,"  she  said  contemptu 
ously,  and  rose.  "  I  don't  think  we  need  talk  any 
more.  I  simply  am  not  willing  to  carry  out  an  ar 
rangement  which  would  have  been  (there  is  no  use 
choosing  words)  a  very  great  relief  to  me " 
She  stopped,  and  then  turned  upon  him  with  a  sud 
den  furious  look.  "  See  here  !  Did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  I  —  that  I  am  human  ?  that  I  am  flesh  and 
blood  ?  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  all  these  years 
may  have  made  me  hate  you  ?  that  —  that  perhaps 
if  -  Oh,  my  God  !  why  did  I  marry  you  !  "  She 
stood  facing  him,  panting,  her  teeth  set  in  a  passion 
that  turned  her  white. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  347 

Philip's  eyes  narrowed.  "  We  never  were  —  mar 
ried,"  he  said,  with  deliberate  and  deadly  meaning. 

"Oh,  don't  be  such  a  fool!  You  don't  know 
what  I  was  talking  about.  I  feel  like  saying,  '  Get 
thee  to  a  nunnery,'  whenever  I  look  at  you !  " 

"  And  still  you  propose  to  remain  with  me?  " 

"  I  propose  not  to  make  a  fool  of  myself.  The 
amount  of  it  is,  Philip,  that  you  and  I  have  been 
acting  as  though  we  were  the  only  people  in  the 
world  to  be  considered  ;  well,  I  've  come  to  my 
senses, — that 's  all.  I  haven't  any  reasons  to  pro 
claim  or  to  discuss.  I  merely  tell  you  I  'm  willing 
to  let  things  be  as  they  were." 

"  But  I  am  not." 

She  flung  up  her  head  as  though  he  had  struck  her. 
"You!" 

"It  isn't  as  though  there  were  any  possibility  of 
your  loving  me,  of  — 

Cecil  broke  in  with  furious  candor.  "  Love  you  ? 
If  " 

Then  Philip  Shore  spoke  his  mind.  He  told  her 
first,  very  clearly,  their  position  in  the  eye  of  the 
law  in  regard  to  Molly  ;  then  he  went  over  the  argu 
ments  which  were  burned  into  his  conscience  for  the 
ending  of  a  false  relation,  —  a  relation  only  less 
base,  he  said,  than  those  other  loveless  marriages 
where  the  wife  is  her  husband's  mistress.  "For 
that 's  what  it  amounts  to,"  he  ended,  beside  him 
self  with  his  sincere  and  brutal  panic  for  personal 
safety.  The  protest  which  he  and  she  would  make 
by  separating  was  for  the  honor  of  marriage.  He 


348  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

was  convinced,  he  declared,  that  this  preservation  of 
their  individual  integrity  would  in  the  end,  by  its  ef 
fect  upon  her  character,  more  than  compensate  Molly 
for  any  pain  and  embarrassment  which  would  come 
to  her. 

Cecil  did  not  speak. 

"  You  do  not  tell  me  your  reasons,  but  these  are 
mine.  I  give  them  to  you  because  I  cannot  do  other 
wise  in  view  of  what  you  have  said.  Nevertheless, 
if,  after  hearing  them,  you  insist  that  we  must  go  on 
living  as  we  have  been  living,  I  must  submit." 

"Live  with  you?"  she  said,  in  a  low,  vibrating 
voice.  "  I  would  not  live  in  the  same  world  with 
you  if  I  could  help  it !  " 

They  stood  facing  one  another  in  this  dreadful 
duel  of  souls ;  stabbing  each  other  with  naked  words ; 
and  one  of  them,  at  least,(struggling  spiritually  with 
the  same  ferocious  selfishness  with  which,  ages  ago, 
his  ancestors  of  caves  and  forests  struggled  physi 
cally.  Then  it  was  as  though  he  suddenly  threw 
down  his  sword. 

"  Oh,  can't  we  put  self  out  of  it  ?  "  Philip  said 
hoarsely.  "  Can't  it  be  because  it  is  right  ? " 
A  wave  of  agitation  moved  in  his  face.  "Oh, 
Cecil,  this  is  the  end.  If  you  will  - 

But  she  threw  herself  forward,  flinging  out  her 
arm,  and  striking  him  full  on  the  mouth  with  the 
back  of  her  hand. 

"  It  is  the  beginning  !  " 

Alas  for  the  smoking  flax,  the  bruised  reed ! 


XXVII. 

The  circle  smiled,  then  whispered,  and  then  sneered : 

The  Misses  bridled,  and  the  matrons  frowned : 
Some  hoped  things  might  not  turn  out  as  they  feared, 
Some  would  not  deem  such  women  could  be  found ! 
Some  looked  perplexed,  and  others  looked  profound  ; 
And  several  pitied  with  sincere  regret. 

BYRON. 

IT  was  not  until  nearly  a  fortnight  later  that  Old 
Chester  woke  to  its  privileges  in  the  way  of  gossip : 
two  great  and  exciting  events  to  discuss,  —  a  broken 
engagement  and  a  divorce.  A  week  before,  the 
village  had  found  food  for  conversation  in  Eliza 
Todd's  affairs  ;  for  Job  had  "  burst  out  "  again,  as 
Miss  Susan  expressed  it.  The  infelicities  of  the  poor 
Todds  were  very  interesting  to  Old  Chester,  but 
of  course  these  other  two  affairs  were  much  more  in 
teresting.  There  are  people,  no  doubt,  who  do  not 
consider  the  breaking  of  a  girl's  engagement  a  very 
important  matter ;  but  that  only  goes  to  show  that 
they  never  lived  in  Old  Chester ;  and  there  may  be 
some  to  whom  marital  quarrels  are  commonplace ;  but 
such  a  point  of  view  merely  reflects  upon  their  own 
characters. 

Alicia's  disappointment  stirred  the  whole  village  ; 
in  fact,  only  such  a  matter  as  Philip  and  Cecil's 
separation  could  take  precedence  of  it.  As  a  topic 
of  conversation,  the  Todds  were  almost  forgotten. 


350  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Each  of  the  great  sensations  had  been  character 
istically  announced. 

Mrs.  Shore  had  mentioned  to  Mrs.  Drayton,  in 
answer  to  some  trivial  question  as  to  Philip's  plans, 
that  she  did  not  know  anything  about  Philip's 
plans.  "  We  have  separated,  Mrs.  Drayton ;  so, 
naturally,  I  don't  trouble  myself  with  Philip's  af 
fairs.  I  have  enough  to  do  to  attend  to  my  own," 
she  said. 

An  hour  later,  through  the  medium  of  Mrs.  Pen- 
dleton,  Cecil's  shocked  and  distressed  step-mother  had 
informed  Old  Chester  of  what  she  called  her  "  afflic 
tion."  "  Of  course  you  won't  speak  of  it ;  I  only 
tell  you,  to  unburden  my  mind,"  she  declared,  with 
tears.  "  I  assure  you  I  've  always  loved  Cecil  as 
though  she  were  my  own  child.  Why,  my  dear, 
when  she  was  little,  people  did  not  even  know  which 
was  my  own  child,  Cecil  or  Lyssie !  I  think  that 
shows  how  I  have  treated  her,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton, 
much  affected ;  "  and  it  is  a  little  bitter  to  have  her 
behave  so  now,  in  spite  of  the  way  I  brought  her 
up." 

The  news  of  Alicia's  broken  engagement  was 
given  to  the  world  with  all  decent  accessories  of  feel 
ing  and  reserve,  but  still  characteristically  ;  for  Mrs. 
Drayton  confided  it  to  four  persons,  with  the  caution 
to  each  that  it  was  not  to  be  spoken  of. 

"  There  's  no  use  talking  about  such  a  sad  thing," 
she  told  Susan  Carr,"  shaking  her  head. 

Miss  Susan,  however,  had  no  wish  to  speak  of  it ; 
sorry  as  she  was  for  Lyssie,  the  greater  matter  was 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  351 

heavy  upon  her  heart.  Philip,  after  the  dreadful 
scene  with  his  wife,  had  come  to  her,  ghastly  white, 
with  a  smear  of  blood  where  Cecil's  rings  had  cut 
his  lip,  and  had  asked  her  to  take  him  in  for  the 
night. 

"  Cecil  and  I  are  going  to  live  apart,"  he  told  her 
briefly. 

Susan  Carr  loved  him  so  truly  that  she  asked  not 
a  single  question.  "  Come  up  to  your  room,  my 
darling,"  she  said ;  and  brought  him  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  kissed  him,  and  left  him.  The  next  day 
she  heard  it  all.  Philip  was  very  quiet  and  direct 
as  he  talked  to  her ;  but  once,  as  he  spoke  of  Molly, 
he  got  up  and  paced  the  floor,  and  she  could  see 
that  his  hands  were  clenched  upon  each  other  until 
the  knuckles  were  white.  He  told  her  of  the  long 
estrangement  in  thought  and  motive  and  principle. 
He  said  that  gradual  irritation  had  culminated  in 
absolute  dislike,  with  its  inevitable  differences  and 
quarreling,  —  a  state  of  things  revolting  to  both 
Cecil  and  himself,  and  horrible  for  Molly.  And 
then  he  explained,  gently,  that  under  such  circum 
stances  he  believed  marriage  to  be  morally  annulled. 

"  Are  you  going  to  be  divorced,  Philip  ?  "  Miss 
Susan  asked,  in  a  frightened  voice. 

"  Keal  divorce  takes  place  without  a  decree,"  he 
answered. 

There  was  something  in  his  face  that  terrified  and 
silenced  her ;  yet  his  arguments  did  not  convince 
her.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  Susan  Carr  that 
his  own  righteousness  was  more  to  him  than  his 


352  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

child's  welfare,  and  infinitely  more  than  Cecil's  wel 
fare.  J  But  she  would  not  allow  herself  to  think  that. 

What  that  talk  was  to  Philip,  agonized  to  a 
point  where  physical  endurance  wavered,  she,  dear 
soul,  could  never  know.  He  went  away  from  her 
with  the  courage  which  comes  to  a  man  who,  in  the 
midst  of  stress  and  storm,  has  laid  his  head  upon 
his  mother's  breast.  That  Miss  Susan  did  not  un 
derstand  him,  that  she  did  not  approve  of  him,  was 
nothing  :  she  loved  him. 

In  spite  of  Mrs.  Drayton's  cautious  confidences, 
by  the  Thursday  that  the  Sewing  Society  met,  every 
body  looked  pitifully  or  critically  at  Lyssie,  as 
chanced  to  be  their  disposition  ;  and  sighed  or  shook 
their  heads,  and  said,  "Isn't  it  dreadful  about 
Cecil  ?  Oh,  it 's  a  great  grief  to  us  all !  " 

But  Old  Chester  went  to  the  Sewing  Society  with 
an  eagerness  which  the  preparation  of  the  wardrobe 
of  a  missionary's  wife  had  never  aroused.  It  was 
Mrs.  Drayton's  turn  to  receive  the  society,  and  there 
was  a  little  anxiety  among  the  ladies  to  know  if 
Alicia  would  be  present ;  they  hoped  not,  and  they 
explained  their  hope  by  saying  that  it  would  be 
awkward  for  the  child  to  see  them.  "  Though  of 
course  nobody  will  speak  of  Mr.  Carey,"  said  one 
lady  to  another  as  they  walked  up  the  street  to 
gether,  "  but  I  do  want  to  ask  Frances  about  poor 
Cecil,  and  it  would  be  scarcely  proper  to  speak  on 
such  afsubject  before  Alicia." 

"'Poor  Cecil'?"  repeated  old  Mrs.  Dale. 
"  Wicked  Cecil,  I  say  !  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  353 

She  glared  at  her  gentler  companion,  but  had  no 
time  to  say  anything  more,  for  they  had  reached 
Mrs.  Dray  ton's  door,  and  Lyssie,  a  little  pale,  a 
little  older,  stood  smiling  in  the  hall,  ready  to  help 
them  take  off  their  wraps  before  they  went  into  the 
parlor,  where  Mrs.  Drayton,  in  her  wheeled  chair, 
was  waiting  to  receive  them. 

Mrs.  Drayton  was  full  of  subdued  excitement, 
but  her  manner  had  a  marked  hesitation.  One 
moment  she  showed  grief  and  dismay  for  Cecil,  and 
a  "  proper  pride  "  that  Lyssie  had  broken  her  en 
gagement  ;  the  next,  rabid  curiosity  concerning  her 
step-daughter,  and  heartbroken  acceptance  of  Alicia's 
disappointment.  The  fact  was,  it  was  all  so  new,  so 
hurried,  that  she  had  not  yet  chosen  her  role,  and 
skipped  from  one  state  of  mind  to  the  other,  in  a 
way  bewildering  even  to  herself. 

Mrs.  Drayton's  chair  was  close  to  the  hearth,  and 
she  wore  a  white  shoulder-shawl,  for  the  day  was 
chilly.  She  looked  very  pretty  and  frail.  She  had 
on  a  plum-colored  silk  with  some  gray  fur  around 
the  throat  and  wrists,  and  she  wore  a  cap  with  blond 
tabs  resting  on  her  shoulders ;  a  miniature  of  Mr. 
Drayton  hung  by  a  slender  gold  chain  around  her 
neck,  and  she  was  apt  to  lift  it  and  look  at  it  as 
she  conversed,  which  sometimes  made  her  manner 
a  little  absent ;  but  she  always  came  back  with  a 
start,  and  apologized  with  a  faint  sigh.  She  sighed 
a  good  deal  that  afternoon,  and  looked  at  the-picture 
very  often. 

"Oh,  this  is   all   very   sad!"  she    said  to  Mrs. 


354  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

Dove  ;  "it  makes  me  feel  my  loneliness  doubly.  If 
it  were  not  selfish,  I  should  long  to  have  my  dear 
husband  come  back  to  help  me  bear  it  all ;  and  he 
would  know  what  to  do  about  Cecil.  She  came  and 
confided  in  me  at  once,  and  I  did  all  I  could,  —  all 
any  mother  could.  But  Mr.  Drayton  would  know 
what  to  say  to  Philip." 

"  But  what  does  Philip  say  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Wright, 
a  plump,  anxious-looking  matron.  "  If  it  is  not  an 
improper  question,  Fanny,  what  does  Philip  say?" 

The  fact  was  that,  so  far,  Philip  had  said  nothing  to 
his  mother-in-law,  so  Mrs.  Drayton  was  only  truth 
ful  when  she  replied,  a  little  stiffly,  "  Ah,  I  think 
I  cannot  tell  you  that.  He  does  not  want  to  say 
anything  severe  about  Cecil,  but  —  poor,  dear  Cecil !  " 

Mrs.  Drayton  might  perhaps  have  been  more  ex 
plicit,  but  at  that  moment  Alicia  came  in  to  ask 
some  question  about  tea,  and  said,  under  her  breath, 
"  Oh,  mother,  don't  talk  about  Cecil !  " 

Mrs.  Drayton  frowned,  and  motioned  her  away. 
"Lyssie  is  a  most  sensitive  child,"  she  told  Mrs. 
Pendleton,  —  "  so  different  from  poor  Cecil,  who  is 
just  like  her  own  mother  ;  she  can't  bear  to  have  me 
talk  about  this  sad  affair.  But  it  is  very  foolish  in 
her,  for,  in  my  position,  I  can  understand  and  de 
fend  Cecil  better  than  anybody  else.  It  has  been  a 
great  blow  to  me,  in  my  weak  state  ;  still,  I  do  de 
fend  her,  for  of  course  she  did  not  stop  to  think  how 
it  would  upset  me." 

"  How  unselfish  you  are  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Pen 
dleton. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  355 

"  Ah  no,  no ;  I  fall  short  of  my  ideal !  I  had 
a  high  ideal  of  a  step-mother's  duties,  and  I  never 
quite  reached  it.  I  think  one  ought  to  have  one's 
ideal  just  out  of  reach,  don't  you  ?  Still,  some  one 
once  said  to  Susy  Carr,  —  you  remember,  don't  you, 
Susy  ?  —  some  one  said,  '  Which  —  But  Mrs. 
Drayton  was  talking  to  empty  air,  for  Mrs.  Pendle- 
tori  was  listening  to  Mrs.  Dove's  gentle  assurance  in 
her  other  ear  that  Cecil  had  fine  qualities,  "  very 
fine ;  and  so  has  Philip.  I  sometimes  think  it  is 
only  because  they  can't  understand  each  other." 

"  Well,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  answered,  hesitating, 
and  looking  down  at  her  sewing,  "  perhaps  there 's 
more  in  this  than  appears  ?  Perhaps  Mr.  Shore  has 
some  motive  that  —  that  it  would  not  be  quite  deli 
cate  to  speak  of.  There  may  be  some  other  woman  ?  " 

But  Mrs.  Dove's  horrified  look  and  little  gesture 
of  drawing  away  made  Mrs.  Pendleton  hasten  to  re 
trace  her  steps ;  for  Mrs.  Pendleton  always  kept 
pace  with  her  companion's  thoughts. 

"  Not  that  I  think  so.  Of  course  I  know  that 
there  is  nothing  like  that  in  this  case.  But  that  is 
what  people  will  say,  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  with 
such  regretful  simplicity,  that  Mrs.  Dove  felt 
vaguely  ashamed,  as  though  the  insinuation  had 
sprung  from  her  own  mind. 

Mrs.  Pendleton  looked  very  meek  and  mild  and 
sympathetic  as  she  sat  there  in  the  Sewing  Society 
that  afternoon  ;  always  ready  to  listen  to  the  two 
sides  of  every  story,  and  showing  such  sympathy 
with  each  that  she  endeared  herself  to  both. 


356  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

And  there  were  distinctly  two  sides  to  this  story 
of  Philip  and  Cecil.  Everybody  said  that  Philip 
was  an  exemplary  young  man ;  everybody  knew  that 
Cecil  had  been  Old  Chester's  black  sheep:  so,  on 
the  one  hand,  it  was  no  wonder  poor  Philip  wanted 
to  leave  her  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  marriage  was 
marriage,  and  Philip  had  made  his  bed,  and  ought 
to  lie  in  it. 

Lyssie,  coming  in  sometimes,  and  finding  the  buzz 
of  conversation  drop  at  her  innocent  footsteps,  and 
hearing  it  rise  eagerly  as  she  left  the  room,  knew, 
with  heartbroken  helplessness,  that  all  the  dear  old 
ladies  were  "  talking  about  Cecil."  "  Why  do  they 
want  to  talk  about  it  ?  "  the  child  thought,  being  a 
child,  and  not  knowing  the  vulture  delight  of  scandal 
latent,  one  often  thinks,  in  the  kindest  soul. 

"  Frances,  you  had  better  tell  us  all  about  it," 
commanded  Mrs.  Dale,  looking  at  her  hostess  over 
her  glasses.  "Alicia  is  out  of  the  room,  and  of 
course  we  are  interested  to  hear ;  though  I  must  say 
I  am  mortified  that  such  a  thing  should  happen  in 
Old  Chester." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  assent,  and  a  sighing  com 
ment  or  two.  "  It 's  all  so  sad."  "It  is  n't  just 
curiosity  that  makes  us  ask  about  it,  —  we  are  so 
attached  to  poor  Philip." 

"  Curiosity  ?  Of  course  it 's  curiosity !  "  said 
Mrs.  Dale.  "  I  am  curious  to  know  how  these  two 
misguided  people  defend  themselves.  Has  James 
Lavendar  reasoned  with  them,  do  you  know, 
Frances?" 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  357 

"  He  went  to  see  Cecil  at  once,"  Mrs.  Drayton 
began  ;  "  but  she  sent  word  she  was  4  not  at  home,' 
and  she  was  sitting  upstairs  reading  a  novel  the 
whole  time !  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  meant  to  be  untruthful,"  Jane 
Dove  protested,  in  her  timid  voice  ;  "  it  is  quite  cus 
tomary  — 

"  Not  in  Old  Chester  !  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Dale  ; 
"  Go  on,  Frances." 

Mrs.  Drayton  looked  at  the  miniature  of  Mr. 
Drayton  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips ;  then,  with  a 
start,  seemed  to  remember  that  she  was  not  alone. 
"I  am  so  saddened,  you  know,  by  all  this,  I  quite 
forget  where  I  am,  sometimes.  I  can  only  think  of 
my  dear  husband,  and  pray  that  it  may  come  right 
in  the  end.  Well,  as  I  understand  it,  they  've  been 
very  unhappy  ever  since  Molly  was  born.  Maybe 
Philip  wanted  a  boy.  I  can't  think  of  anything  else, 
though  Cecil's  temper  may  be  the  real  reason ! " 
Mrs.  Drayton's  voice  trembled  and  her  face  flushed, 
as  she  said  that.  "  I  never  knew  any  one  so  ill- 
tempered  as  Cecil,  though  I  'm  sure  I  tried  to  bring 
her  up  well." 

"  Yes,  but  she  did  n't  come  to  you  until  she  was 
seven,"  Mrs.  Pendleton  murmured,  "  and  the  early 
years  are  the  impressionable  ones,  I  am  told." 

Mrs.  Drayton  protested  politely,  but  with  a  sim 
per.  "  Maria  Drayton  did  her  best,  I  've  no  doubt, 
but  I  fear  Cecil  was  born  with  a  bad  disposition. 
She  has  quarreled  constantly  with  Philip.  Oh  dear, 
the  idea  of  a  husband  and  wife  quarreling  is  so 


358  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

shocking  to  me  !  I  'm  sure  she  never  saw  it  in  her 
own  home." 

Only  Susan  Carr  smiled  at  that,  thinking  of 
William  Drayton's  intelligent  absences. 

"  I  am  sure,"  continued  Mrs.  Drayton,  growing 
shrill  and  wiping  her  eyes,  "  if  Cecil  has  talked  to 
Philip  as  she  has  to  me,  I  can  excuse  him.  But  I 
believe  that  what  has  made  the  present  trouble  is 
that  she  wants  to  live  abroad,  and  Philip  does  n't 
want  to  ;  which  I  think  is  so  strange  in  Philip,  for 
he  could  learn  to  be  an  artist  again.  But  they  had 
a  dreadful  quarrel  about  it,  and  then  they  decided  to 
part.  That 's  the  whole  story.  And  I  never  knew 
anything  so  distressing  !  I  suppose  Cecil  gets  her 
terrible  temper  from  her  own  mother  ;  I  'm  sure  it 
does  n't  come  from  me." 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  could,  unless  by  example," 
Susan  Carr  thought ;  but  was  discreetly  silent. 

"  Well,  it  is  perfectly  incomprehensible,"  said 
Mrs.  Dale  solemnly.  "  A.  girl  brought  up  in  Old 
Chester !  If  Philip  had  any  bad  habits,  I  could  un 
derstand  that  she  might  have  the  impulse  to  leave 
him." 

"  I  don't  know  that  he  has  any  bad  habits—  "  Mrs. 
Drayton  began. 

"  You  know  he  has  n't !  "  said  Susan  Carr,  indig 
nantly. 

« —  but  Cecil  said  to  me,  once,  that  he  had 
4  didactic  hysteria,'  and  you  know  she  never  liked 
sick  people.  I  had  always  thought  he  had  very 
good  health,  but  perhaps  this  has  come  on  lately. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  359 

She  has  no  patience  with  it,  I  suppose  —  which  is 
something  I  can't  understand  in  her !  I  should 
think  any  wife  would  be  grateful  for  the  chance  to 
wait  on  a  sick  husband.  My  poor  dear  William ! 
how  happy  I  should  be  to  attend  his  sick-bed." 

The  ladies  of  the  Sewing  Society  looked  at  each 
other,  but  only  Susan  Carr  smiled  broadly.  Then  Mrs. 
Wright  said  with  some  haste,  as  though  to  hide  em 
barrassment,  "  But  what 's  going  to  become  of 
MoUy  ?  Which  one  of  them  will  have  Molly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Cecil,  I  suppose.  Poor  MoUy !  "  Mrs. 
Drayton  answered  mournfully. 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  how  Philip  can  make  up  his 
mind  to  part  with  her,"  said  Mrs.  Wright.  "  I  al 
ways  thought  he  was  so  fond  of  her." 

Then  Susan  Carr  broke  through  the  silence  which 
she  had  set  upon  her  lips  that  whole  afternoon  : 
"Philip  wants  to  divide  Molly's  time  between  him 
self  and  Cecil.  She  won't  consent  to  that,  and  she 's 
going  to  keep  the  child ;  but  Philip  is  to  see  her  as 
often  as  he  wants  to." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Pendleton  mildly,  "  Mrs.  Dove 
and    I  were  just  saying,  we  wondered    whether    it 
would  not  be  best  that  the  real  reason  for  this  most 
regrettable  affair  should  be  known  ?    One  fancies  — 
anything!     Why,  I  have  no  doubt  that  there  are 
people  who  would  say  —  I  quite  hesitate  to  repeat 
such  a  tiling,"   and   she  glanced   at   Mrs.  Dove  — 
"  who  would  say, '  Who  is  the  woman  in  the  case  ? '  " 

"  Why,  Jane  Temple  ! "  cried  Miss  Carr  angrily. 
"  I  would  n't  have  believed  that  of  you !  " 


360  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  But  I  did  n't  mean  —  I  did  n't  say  —  "  protested 
poor  Mrs.  Dove.  But  the  conversation  swept  past 
her  before  she  could  explain  or  deny. 

Miss  Susan,  her  face  flushed  and  agitated,  declared 
that,  rather  than  have  such  things  said,  she  would 
say  what  she  knew  of  the  matter :  Philip  and  Cecil 
did  not  love  each  other  any  longer.  That  was  the 
whole  story.  They  had  long  ago  parted  in  every 
thing  but  word.  "  It 's  nothing  worse  than  just  not 
loving  each  other." 

"  Not  love  each  other  ?  " 

"  You  mean  they  quarrel  ?  " 

"  I  never  heard  anything  so  absurd !  " 

"  So  wicked,  I  say !  "  old  Mrs.  Dale  proclaimed. 

"  Let  them  try  to  love  each  other,"  Mrs.  Wright 
said  emphatically ;  "  and,  dear  me,  what  have  they 
got  to  complain  of  ?  Philip  is  n't  a  religious  man, 
I  'm  afraid,  but  he  's  always  very  polite.  And  Cecil 
is  the  best  housekeeper  I  know.  Do  you  remember 
how  she  taught  her  cook  to  broil  grouse,  and  then 
put  that  jelly  and  stuff  all  around  it  ?  Cecil  makes 
him  very  comfortable.  Gracious  !  I  could  keep  my 
husband  good  natured  from  one  year's  end  to 
another,  if  I  could  have  a  table  like  Cecil's." 

"  I  fear  Cecil  is  one  of  those  persons  to  whom  St. 
Paul  refers  in  the  third  chapter  of  Philippians,  who 
make  a  god  of  their  belly,"  said  Mrs.  Dale,  in  a 
deep  voice,  fixing  her  eyes  upon  Mrs.  Wright,  whose 
face  immediately  grew  very  red. 

Susan  Carr,  listening,  felt  helplessly  that  all  those 
things  which  Philip  had  said  to  her  of  honor  and 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  361 

purity  could  not  be  repeated  here.  They  would  not 
be  understood.  "  When  people  don't  love  each 
other,"  she  began,  "  it  does  seem  not  nice  for  them 
to  go  on  living  together — "  But  severe  voices  inter 
rupted  her. 

"  Susan  Carr,  when  you  've  lived  as  long  as  I 
have,  you  '11  know  that  duty  is  a  form  of  love,"  Mrs. 
Dale  rebuked  her. 

"  Well,  I  think  that  a  nice,  feminine,  ladylike 
person  always  does  love  her  husband,"  Mrs.  Pendle- 
ton  observed,  with  great  gentility ;  and  added  to  Mrs. 
Drayton,  in  a  low  voice,  that  sometimes  dear  Susan 
Carr  was  almost  indelicate. 

Miss  Susan  sighed,  and  accepted  the  various 
reproofs  meekly  enough.  No  doubt  the  ladies  were 
right,  she  said ;  only  sometimes,  just  for  a  moment, 
it  did  seem  wrong  to  insist  that  two  people  who 
quarreled  like  —  like  cats  and  dogs  should  go  on 
living  together.  But  still,  of  course,  the  ladies  were 
right.  And  certainly  Philip  and  Cecil  were  wrong. 
She  had  told  Philip  so. 

"  Well,  what  is  Philip  going  to  live  on  ?  —  that 's 
what  I  'd  like  to  know,"  some  one  said  ;  and  then 
the  Sewing  Society  looked  at  Miss  Susan. 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  '11  do.  But  he  '11  find 
something.  I  'm  not  afraid  for  Philip,"  she  an 
swered  proudly. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  Cecil  will  give  him  something 
for  managing  her  money  for  her  ?  "  some  one  sug 
gested.  But  Miss  Susan  shook  her  head. 

"  Cecil  is  going  to  ask"  —  she  dropped  her  voice, 


362  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

and  glanced  toward  the  door  —  "  to  ask  Mr.  Carey 
to  do  that.  Oh  dear,  I  do  hope  and  pray  the  young 
man  will  try  to  reconcile  them." 

"Oh,  then  very  likely  he'll  come  down  to  Old 
Chester  to  see  Cecil  about  it !  "  said  the  Sewing 
Society  ;  and  the  possibility  of  a  reconciliation  be 
tween  Alicia  and  her  lover  instantly  struck  these 
kindly  women,  and  for  a  little  while  the  greater  and 
more  interesting  subject  dropped.  But  Lyssie,  com 
ing  along  the  hall  with  some  plates  and  napkins, 
stopped,  trembling,  at  that  mention  of  Roger's 
return. 

"  Though  it  's  nothing  to  me,"  she  thought,  very 
pallid  and  breathless. 

Tea,  and  Alicia,  put  an  end  to  all  interesting  con 
versation.  The  ladies  rolled  up  their  work  neatly, 
and  chattered  about  the  missionary's  wife,  and 
looked  with  quick,  sidelong  glances  at  Lyssie,  as  she 
stepped,  smiling,  about,  handing  the  cake,  or  the 
little  tray  that  held  the  decanter  and  glasses. 

"  She  looks  pale,"  they  said  aside  to  one  another, 
and  dipped  up  their  chocolate  custard  from  tall 
glasses,  and  broke  off  crumbling  bits  from  their 
slices  of  cake.  Only  Mrs.  Dove  showed  the  pity  in 
her  heart :  she  took  Lyssie's  hand,  as  the  girl  passed 
her,  and  patted  it  without  speaking.  But  tears 
came  to  the  child's  eyes. 

Susan  Carr,  as  she  went  home,  hoped  nervously 
that  she  had  not  been  indiscreet  in  what  she  had 
told  the  Sewing  Society.  "  I  could  not  have  those 
things  said  about  Philip,"  she  thought.  Her  mind 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  363 

was  full  of  Philip ;  and  yet,  that  night,  as  she  sat 
by  the  round  centre-table  in  her  parlor,  sometimes 
reading,  but  oftener  thinking  of  this  dreadful  affair, 
her  newspaper  slipped  once  into  her  lap,  and  she 
looked  absently  over  the  top  of  her  glasses,  and  smiled 
a  little,  and  sighed. 

"  I  wonder  if  Joseph  will  try  again  ?  "  Her  face 
grew  as  conscious  as  a  girl's.  "  Of  course  I  must  n't 
let  him;  but  if  he  does  —  " 


XXVIII. 

There  are  occasions  when  a  man   dares  not  look  into  his  own 
eyes  for  fear  of  what  he  may  see  there. 

IN  spite  of  Alicia's  assurance,  Eoger  Carey's 
return  to  Old  Chester  could  not  but  be  something 
to  her.  It  meant  the  instant  thought  on  waking, 
"  Will  he  be  here  to-day  ?  "  and  the  last  ache  of 
pain  at  night  fading  into  a  dream  that  he  had  come. 
It  meant  staying  indoors  lest  he  might  have  arrived, 
and  she  should  have  the  pain  of  meeting  him  in  the 
street ;  it  meant  long,  aimless  walks  for  the  chance 
of  seeing  him,  and  the  start  at  every  tall  figure  in 
the  distance.  To  be  sure,  she  might  have  ended  the 
uncertainty  by  asking  Cecil  when  he  was  coming. 
But  she  could  not  ask  any  one.  She  could  not  speak 
his  name. 

Over  and  over,  in  her  mind,  she  enacted  possible 
meetings ;  especially  that  scene  so  dear  to  youth,  of 
her  own  deathbed,  and  a  beautiful  and  satisfying 
reconciliation.  If  she  should  be  going  to  die,  —  and 
it  seemed  to  Lyssie  that  she  should  not  live  long,  — 
why  then  she  would  tell  them  to  send  for  Roger. 
And  he  would  come,  —  oh  yes,  she  was  sure  he  would 
come  when  he  should  hear  that  she  was  going  to  die  ; 
and  he  would  be  so  unhappy,  —  her  eyes  always 
filled  and  her  lip  quivered  at  the  thought  of  his  re 
pentance  and  grief ;  but  she  would  comfort  him ; 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  365 

she  would  tell  him  it  was  n't  his  fault,  it  was  just 
fate! 

Sometimes  she  thought  that  instead  of  summoning 
him  to  her  deathbed  she  would  leave  a  letter  for 
him,  "  explaining  "  everything  ;  and  she  even  went 
so  far  as  to  write,  "  Dear  Roger,  I  want  you  to 
know  that  I  don't  blame  you  —  But  she  stopped 
there,  for  the  date  of  her  letter  must  not  be  too  far 
in  advance  of  her  demise,  and  no  mortal  disease  had 
as  yet  declared  itself. 

She  knew  no  better,  poor  child,  than  to  read  over 
and  over  the  letters  she  had  received  from  Roger 
Carey  during  their  short  engagement,  and  she  suf 
fered  accordingly.  For  very  exquisite  pain,  there  is 
nothing  which  may  be  more  highly  commended  than 
the  reading  of  old  love-letters  after  love  has  died. 
It  is  like  touching  something  dead ;  the  pain  is 
mixed  with  a  curious  disgust,  as  though  the  scent  of 
corruption  entered  into  the  very  soul.  Alicia  read, 
and  remembered,  and  suffered.  She  went  through 
those  weary  alternations  of  excusing  and  condemn 
ing  herself ;  those  wearier  moments  of  realizing 
that  the  whole  difficulty  lay  in  something  far  deeper 
than  circumstances  which  might  be  either  excused 
or  condemned,  —  the  radical  and  hopeless  diffi 
culty  of  a  conscientious  difference  in  the  point  of 
view. 

Those  were  dark  days  for  Lyssie  Drayton  ;  but 
she  made  no  public  moan  of  sickness  or  of  neglected 
work.  In  her  simple  way,  she  was  glad  of  the  silent 
friendship  of  pity  which  she  knew  was  all  about  her ; 


866  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

and  she  cried  a  little  sometimes  at  the  disapproval 
which  went  hand  in  hand  with  pity,  —  for  the  disap 
proval  of  her  elders  was  grief  to  Lyssie.  She  knew 
that  Mrs.  Pendleton  thought  her  a  jilt,  and  Dr. 
Lavendar  was  disappointed  in  her,  and  even  kind 
Miss  Susan  was  surprised  and  sorry.  But  she  made 
no  explanation  or  excuse  for  the  broken  engagement. 
Why  give  any  one  cause  to  blame  her  mother  ? 
Why  give  her  mother  the  pain  which  comes  to  one 
who  accepts  the  sacrifice,  even  the  necessary  sacrifice, 
of  another's  life  ? 

Mrs.  Drayton,  after  the  first  delight  of  hearing 
that  she  was  to  have  her  child  "  forever,"  had  grown 
a  little  impatient  with  Lyssie' s  quiet ;  later  a  half- 
sullen  indifference  fell  upon  her,  until  the  flat  and 
tasteless  moment  when  she  recognized  that  Alicia 
had  robbed  her  of  a  grievance  ;  then  she  was  frankly 
cross. 

Alicia  for  once  did  not  try  to  understand  her  mo 
ther's  moods.  It  was  hard  for  her  to  try  to  under 
stand  or  to  be  interested  in  anything.  Even  her 
dismay  and  grief  for  her  sister  came  with  a  sense  of 
effort. 

Cecil  gave  her  no  information  beyond  the  fact 
that  she  and  Philip,  on  thinking  it  over,  had  decided 
that  it  was  best  to  part. 

Cecil  was  cruel  to  her  little  sister  in  those  autumn 
days :  she  seemed  uneasy  in  Alicia's  presence ;  she 
snubbed  her  violently ;  she  said  things  about  Mrs. 
Drayton  that  brought  the  angry  color  into  the  girl's 
cheek.  Perhaps  that  was  why  Lyssie  never  asked 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  367 

her  when  Roger  was  coming  to  Old   Chester.     And 
Cecil  did  not  volunteer  the  information. 

But  she  had  referred  Philip's  lawyer  to  Roger 
Carey,  who  would,  she  said,  take  charge  of  her  af 
fairs.  "Why  not?"  she  asked  herself  angrily. 
"  He  is  free,  and  I  am  free  —  or  I  shall  be ;  and 
there  's  no  reason  why  he  should  n't  look  after  things 
for  me."  Yet  it  was  some  days  after  this  decision 
that  she  wrote  to  him ;  and  meantime  Roger  Carey's 
first  intimation  of  the  temptation  before  him  had 
come  in  legal  form  :  — 

DEAK  SIR,  —  I  have  been  consulted  by  Mr. 
Philip  Shore  in  relation  to  certain  family  matters, 
and  I  am  advised  by  Mrs.  Shore,  whom  I  have  seen 
in  this  same  connection,  that  you  will  represent  her 
interests.  Kindly  let  me  know  when  it  will  be  con 
venient  for  you  to  meet  me. 

Very  truly  yours, 

GlFFORD  WOODHOUSE. 

Roger  was  sitting  gloomily  before  a  cluttered 
desk ;  his  feet  were  supported  by  the  yielding  edge 
of  his  waste-basket,  a  pipe  warmed  the  hollow  of  his 
left  hand,  while  with  his  right  he  was  making  aim 
less  marks  and  dashes  on  his  blotting-paper.  He 
had  been  thinking  of  Lyssie.  He  had  thought 
much  of  Lyssie  in  these  weeks  that  had  passed  since 
the  engagement  had  been  broken.  He  went  over 
and  over  in  his  mind  her  unreasonableness,  her  fool 
ishness,  her  unkindness.  He  did  not  think  much  of 


368  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

his  own.  He  sucked  away  at  his  pipe,  and  looked 
at  the  red  glow  brightening  and  fading  in  the  brier- 
wood  bowl,  and  assured  himself  that  it  was  far  bet 
ter  that  the  engagement  was  broken.  "  Confound 
an  unreasonable  woman !  "  said  Koger  Carey ;  he 
could  stand  anything  but  unreasonableness,  he  told 
himself  angrily. 

He  had  never  been  so  much  in  love  with  Lyssie 
before  ;  but  he  did  not  know  it.  All  he  knew  was, 
that  he  recognized,  in  a  half-sneaking  way,  that  he 
had  not  been  very  much  in  love  with  her  when  he 
had  proposed  to  her. 

He  nestled  the  hot  bowl  of  his  pipe  down  into  the 
palm  of  his  hand,  and  set  his  teeth,  and  said  that 
unreasonableness  was  the  only  thing  he  had  no  pa 
tience  with.  And  then  he  thought  how  much  he 
should  like  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  Mrs.  Shore. 
She  was  a  reasonable  woman.  She  would  see  how 
preposterous  Lyssie's  conduct  had  been,  and  how 
fair  was  his  demand.  "I  offered  to  wait  six 
months,"  he  justified  himself.  Mrs.  Shore  would 
appreciate  all  that ;  though  she  would  not  see  the 
fear  which  had  lurked  behind  his  entreaties  to 
Alicia.  In  that  fear,  he  admitted,  he  had  been  un 
reasonable. 

"  Yes,  I  'd  like  to  talk  it  over  with  her,"  he 
thought,  an  absent  look  softening  his  eyes. 

Now,  Roger  Carey  was  not  that  objectionable 
sort  of  man  who,  when  he  is  in  any  difficulty,  must 
needs  run  crying  to  some  woman's  knee  for  sympa 
thy  ;  so,  when  he  felt  the  impulse  to  tell  Cecil  his 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  369 

woes,  he  might  well  have  mistrusted  it.  But  Roger 
was  not  given  to  analyzing  his  impulses. 

Sitting  here  in  his  office,  in  the  darkening  Novem 
ber  afternoon,  with  love  for  Lyssie  tugging  at  his 
heart,  with  his  pulse  quickening  at  the  remembered 
look  and  touch  of  another  woman,  he  put  his  hand 
out  listlessly  for  a  letter  a  messenger  brought  into 
his  office. 

When  he  had  read  it,  he  got  up  breathlessly  and 
walked  the  length  of  the  room ;  and  came  back,  and 
stood  by  his  desk,  and  read  it  again.  "  Shore  's  a 
fool !  "  he  said,  and  struck  the  letter  across  his  hand 
sharply  ;  his  face  was  alert  and  vivid. 

He  stood  there  a  moment,  and  then  flung  his  of 
fice-door  open.  "  Here,  you  !  Johnny  !  come  and 
light  the  gas ;  why  don't  you  attend  to  your  busi 
ness?" 

Yet  when  his  boy  came  in,  stumbling  with  haste, 
Roger  Carey  did  no  more  than  pull  down  the  cover 
of  his  desk  with  a  bang,  and  fling  himself  out  of  the 
door.  He  would  go  and  take  a  walk,  he  said  to  him 
self. 

In  his  mind  two  thoughts  were  struggling  for  con 
trol:  an  intellectual  appreciation  of  Philip  Shore's 
purpose  ;  and,  beating  the  appreciation  down,  a  rude 
and  brutal  wonder,  a  fierce  joy,  an  exulting  con 
tempt.  "  He 's  a  damned  fool !  "  he  said  again. 

In  aimless,  irritated  haste,  he  walked  on,  under 
a  low  and  melancholy  sky,  far  out  into  the  country. 
His  mind  was  in  a  tumult,  but  the  situation,  so  far 
as  the  Shores  were  concerned,  seemed  perfectly  pa- 


370  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

tent  to  him.  He  had,  of  course,  110  idea  of  that  last 
quarrel.  He  took  it  for  granted  that  Cecil's  promise 
to  him  to  "  reconsider  "  had  not  amounted  to  any 
thing,  and  that  she  was  going  to  carry  out  the  plan 
of  separation ;  probably  she  had  refused  to  give  up 
any  part  of  Molly's  time,  and  the  result  was  that 
Philip  was  going  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  legal  issue. 
"  But  he  hasn't  any  case  ;  he  hasn't  a  leg  to  stand 
on !  What 's  Woodhouse  thinking  of  to  let  him 
push  it  ?  "  he  thought,  frowning.  He  was  not  sur 
prised  that  Mrs.  Shore  wished  him  to  represent  her ; 
and  he  said  to  himself,  with  entire  sincerity,  that  he 
had  no  doubt  Philip  wished  it,  also.  u  It 's  better 
that  it  should  be  a  friend  of  Shore's  as  well  as 
hers,"  he  declared,  and  struck  out  with  his  stick  at 
a  dead  mullein-stalk  standing  by  the  roadside.  His 
mind  leaped  ahead  to  all  sorts  of  possibilities. 
When  it  was  settled,  where  would  she  go  ?  What 
would  she  do !  Live  abroad,  probably,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  declassee  American  woman.  "  She 
has  a  gorgeous  sort  of  nature,"  he  reflected.  How 
curious  it  would  be  to  lose  sight  of  her !  In  these 
few  months  she  had  impressed  her  individuality  pro 
foundly  upon  him,  —  "  in  a  perfectly  impersonal 
way,"  he  reminded  himself. 

"  This  whole  row  is  as  unreal  as  the  theatre,  but 
it 's  mighty  interesting  to  the  observer,"  he  thought. 
He  overlooked  the  fact  that  one  who  observes  the 
play  from  the  wings,  awaiting  his  own  cue  to  rush 
upon  the  stage,  feels  a  different  interest  from  one 
who  sits  before  the  footlights. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  371 

He  tramped  home  in  the  mud  and  darkness,  still 
too  absorbed  to  know  that  he  was  a  great  fool  to 
have  walked  six  miles  in  a  rainy  fog.  Now,  a  man 
who  does  not,  upon  viewing  his  boots  after  such  an 
excursion,  call  himself  a  fool  is  decidedly  not  in  the 
"impersonal"  stage. 

The  next  day  came  Cecil  Shore's  letter ;  a  brief 
and  somewhat  ill-tempered  summons  that  he  should 
come  and  advise  her  about  the  necessary  steps  in 
the  divorce  suit  which  she  proposed  to  bring. 

"  Divorce !  "  said  Roger  Carey  contemptuously. 
"  She  does  n't  know  what  she  's  talking  about ; 
she  can't  get  a  divorce  in  any  decent  way  ;  and  I 
would  n't  let  her,  if  she  could." 

But  so  it  came  that  he  went  down  to  Old  Chester. 

He  went  to  receive  instructions  from  his  client ; 
he  went  to  advise  her  to  the  best  of  his  ability ;  he 
went  because  the  devil,  masquerading  as  professional 
duty,  beckoned  him  from  the  white  page  of  the 
lawyer's  letter.  And  before  he  went  he  looked  up 
the  Dakota  divorce  laws. 

And  here  was  a  strange  thing :  under  all  his 
anger  which  refused  to  recognize  it,  he  loved  Alicia 
Drayton.  But  this  phase  of  his  experience  was  as 
remote  from  that  love  as  is  the  hunger  with  which 
an  artist  falls  upon  his  bread  and  cheese  remote 
from  his  passion  before  his  canvas.  One  does  not 
contradict  the  other. 

That  journey  to  Old  Chester  was  a  crisis  in 
Roger's  life.  He  went  as  far  as  Mercer  in  company 
with  a  friend,  and  had  no  time  to  think  about  him- 


372  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

self,  in  their  talk  of  the  political  situation  and  the 
recent  election.  Not  that  Roger  cared  the  snap  of 
his  finger  about  the  election.  "  They  might  have 
elected  the  devil,  if  they  'd  wanted  to  ;  I  should  n't 
have  cared!"  he  swore  softly  under  his  breath, 
driven  to  the  verge  of  madness  by  his  companion's 
earnestness.  But  conversation  upon  the  high  theme 
of  the  moral  purpose  in  government  served  to  shut 
out  connected  thought  on  other  purposes  not  moral. 
And  when,  at  last,  he  climbed  up  on  the  box-seat  of 
the  coach  at  Mercer,  it  was  with  the  profound  relief 
of  a  man  who  can  get  his  mental  breath,  who  can 
think  and  reason  and  decide. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  such  an  opportunity,  Roger 
seemed  to  find  nothing  particular  to  think  about : 
the  off  leader  had  an  ugly  way  of  throwing  his  head  ; 
the  whiffletree  was  obviously  cracked ;  how  strange 
it  would  seem  to  be  in  Old  Chester  merely  on  busi 
ness.  Then  the  driver  got  on  the  box  and  gathered 
up  his  reins,  and  there  was  the  tug  and  pull,  the 
sagging  pitch  forward,  and  a  rush  of  memories  to 
Roger  Carey's  mind  that  hurt  him  like  lashes.  He 
wanted,  with  the  mere  impatience  of  pain,  to  forget 
them,  —  to  forget  that  first  journey  across  these 
rolling  Pennsylvania  hills,  brown  now,  and  swept  by 
a  bitter  wind.  He  could  not  endure  the  remem 
brance  of  his  arrival,  six  months  ago,  in  Old  Ches 
ter  :  the  stately  house,  with  its  garden  and  orchards 
up  on  the  hillside  ;  Philip  opening  the  stage-door ;  a 
young  girl,  with  serious,  pleasant  eyes,  standing, 
smiling,  on  the  steps,  leaf  shadows  from  the  great 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  373 

locust-trees  moving  across  her.  face  and  hair.  The 
difference  between  that  journey  and  this  was  intol 
erable. 

He  made  spasmodic  efforts  at  conversation  with 
the  driver.  He  observed  that  Jonas  ought  to  cure 
the  leader  of  throwing  his  head  back  that  way. 
"  I  'd  put  a  martingale  on  him,"  he  said  ;  and  added 
that  he  thought  the  off  mare  was  spavined. 

"  She  cast  her  shoe  first,  and  went  lame,"  Jonas 
jolted  out. 

"  And  she 's  been  lame  ever  since,  I  suppose  ?  " 
Roger  said  absently,  bending  forward  to  watch  the 
twist  and  give  of  the  mare's  leg.  He  was  reflecting 
upon  the  truth,  which  is  inspiring  or  depressing  as 
one  looks  at  it,  that,  after  passing  through  a  great  ex 
perience,  a  man  cannot  remain  what  he  was  ;  he  must 
either  be  better  or  worse.  "  Yes,"  he  was  saying  to 
himself  doggedly,  "  better  or  worse.  Well,  I  'm 
worse ;  and,"  he  added  meanly,  after  the  oldest 
fashion  of  his  sex,  "  it 's  Lyssie's  fault !  " 

It  seemed  as  though  always  his  thoughts  came 
back  to  Lyssie.  He  was  angry  at  her  because  it  gave 
him  such  pain  to  think  of  her.  Nor  would  he  allow 
himself  to  think  of  Mrs.  Shore  save  as  the  common 
place,  business  reason  for  his  taking  this  journey. 
He  never  once  looked  behind  the  professional  need 
there  was  for  him  to  come  ;  he  never  uncovered  the 
shame  lurking  under  his  well-turned  phrases  :  "  I  'm 
glad  to  be  of  any  assistance,  but  it 's  beastly  to  have 
to  come  to  Old  Chester."  "  I  wish  she  had  sent  for 
somebody  else.  Still,  it  would  have  been  unfriendly 


374  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

to  Philip  as  well  as  to  her  to  have  refused  to 
come." 

Then  he  began  to  speculate  upon  the  divorce  laws 
of  Dakota  ;  but  started,  to  see  beneath  the  veil  he 
stretched  between  his  inner  and  outer  self  a  glimpse 
of  the  real  and  shameful  meaning  of  his  thoughts. 
After  that,  for  some  time  he  talked  resolutely  to 
Jonas. 

Yet  as  the  stage  turned  from  the  road,  and  went 
down  to  ford  the  creek  so  that  the  horses  might 
drink,  Roger  found  this  suggestion  of  divorce  again 
leering  up  at  him  from  under  the  flimsy  pretense  of 
being  an  impersonal  comment :  "  She  could  bring 
suit  for  desertion."  He  looked  over  the  wheel  at  the 
shallow,  racing  little  stream,  and  heard  the  pebbles 
grate  against  the  tire.  The  horses,  steaming  a  little, 
drank,  and  shook  their  necks  in  their  heavy  collars. 
There  was  the  clash  and  rattle  of  buckles  and  trace- 
chains.  Roger  listlessly  followed  with  his  eyes  the 
course  of  the  brook  which,  from  far  up  across  the 
fields,  came  chattering  down  to  the  ford,  whirling 
itself  into  foam  around  a  big  stone  that  broke  its 
path  before  it  slipped  under  the  bridge  and  was  off 
into  the  woods. 

"  Yes,  she  can  go  out  to  Dakota  ;  it  can  easily  be 
arranged." 

It  came  dully  to  his  mind,  —  the  instinct,  perhaps, 
of  the  gentleman,  an  instinct  which  at  such  moments 
seems  artificial,  or  at  least  acquired,  —  it  came  to  his 
mind  that  such  a  proceeding  was  not  for  Cecil's 
honor.  But  a  fierce  selfishness  leaped  up  and  choked 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  375 

this  refinement  of  civilization,  and  left  her  in   his 
thought  merely  the  woman  ;  himself  merely  the  man. 

Then  again,  angrily,  he  insisted  that  he  was  con 
sidering  only  the  legal  possibilities ;  that  it  was 
nothing  to  him  one  way  or  the  other. 

When  at  last,  in  the  early  November  dusk,  the 
stage  drew  up  at  the  tavern,  he  was  fatigued  in  body 
and  soul  by  this  wrestling  with  a  vague,  elusive,  nay, 
a  denied  temptation.  /  If  he  had  been  willing  to  face 
it  for  what  it  was,  if  he  had  summoned  the  devil  out 
from  behind  his  phrases,  he  could  have  fought  him 
like  a  man,  and  found  a  certain  vigor  in  the  conflict. 
But  he  waited,  as,  strangely  enough,  most  of  us  wait, 
allowing  the  temptation  to  gain  its  full  strength  be 
fore  meeting  it  with  deliberate  and  desperate  re 
sistance. 

Even  as  he  walked  up  the  hill  to  Cecil's  house, 
that  night,  he  kept  on  lying  to  himself.  He  was 
only  "  doing  his  duty  "  in  coming.  Suppose  he  had 
had  that  moment  of  emotion  in  Mrs.  Shore's  pres 
ence?  He  must  come  when  she  summoned  him. 
He  "  had  n't  any  choice."  Indeed,  so  low  had  he 
fallen,  in  the  swift  descent  of  this  one  day,  that 
he  could  say,  "I've  lost  Lyssie,  but  the  least  I 
can  do  is  to  be  helpful  to  her  sister  in  this  unfor 
tunate  affair." 

There  he  touched  his  lowest  level.  No  actual  sin 
could  compare  with  such  degradation  of  the  mind. 


XXIX. 

Fal.  Of  what  quality  was  your  love  then  ? 

Ford.  Like  a  fair  house  built  on  another  man's  ground. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

AFTERWAKDS,  alone  in  his  room  in  the  tavern, 
while  midnight  whitened  into  dawn,  the  supreme 
words  scorched  themselves  into  Roger  Carey's  mind ; 
it  was  as  though  a  flaming  finger  wrote  them  upon 
his  bare  soul.  They  crashed  and  clamored  in  his 
ears  ;  he  could  hear  nothing  else  because  of  them. 
He  found  himself  repeating  them  over  and  over  as 
he  walked  back  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  across  the 
bare  and  meagre  bedroom  of  the  tavern. 

Years  afterwards,  Roger  could  see  every  detail  of 
that  room,  yet  at  the  time  he  did  not  know  that  he 
was  aware  of  anything  in  it.  He  was  absorbed  in 
seeing  again  Cecil  Shore's  face,  in  feeling  her  hair 
against  his  lips,  in  listening  in  horror  to  those  words 
his  own  lips  spoke ;  but  all  the  while  he  was  following 
the  pattern  on  the  thin  red  and  black  carpet,  study 
ing  the  landscape  upon  the  green  paper  window-shades, 
counting  his  footsteps  from  the  door  to  the  fireplace, 
the  last  step  ending  on  a  sunken  brick  in  the  hearth. 
He  looked  at  a  bunch  of  pallid  wax  flowers  under  a 
glass  shade  on  the  mantelpiece  ;  he  saw  the  blue  wool 
mat  under  the  lamp  on  the  corner  of  the  bureau ;  he 
examined  two  faded  and  yellowing  photographs  in 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  377 

black  walnut  frames  hanging  near  the  ceiling.  He 
stood  before  one  of  these  for  a  long  time,  staring  up 
at  the  dull  face  and  the  big  hands  hanging  limply 
between  the  knees, —  staring  at  them,  but  seeing  only 
a  room  half  lighted  by  the  glow  of  a  fire  and  by  the 
gleam  of  candles  high  on  the  walls  ;  seeing  a  bowl  of 
violets  that  spread  a  delicate  perfume  through  the 
warm  air  ;  seeing  the  glitter  of  a  silver  dagger  be 
tween  the  uncut  pages  of  a  book ;  and  seeing  him 
self,  leaning  forward,  holding  her  hand  between  his 
own,  pressing  it  to  his  lips,  once,  twice,  fiercely; 
then,  still  holding  it  in  a  grip  that,  but  for  its  own 
returning  strenuous  clasp,  would  have  made  the 
rings  cut  into  the  white  flesh,  leaning  nearer, 
nearer ;  kneeling  — 

He  began  to  pace  the  floor  once  more.  Each 
time  that  he  stepped  upon  a  certain  board  the  bu 
reau  shook,  and  then  the  lamp  flared.  Eight  steps 
from  the  sunken  brick  to  the  door,  sagging  a  little  in 
its  old  frame  ;  eight  steps  back  again.  Had  anybody 
ever  lifted  that  brick  ?  he  wondered.  He  stopped 
once  and  thrust  a  bit  of  wood  under  the  castorless 
corner  of  the  bureau,  adjusting  the  clumsy  piece  of 
furniture  with  careful  precision,  and  looking  to  see 
that  it  was  straight. 


"But  I  love    you !      Good    God,    I  love 


you 


Do  you  hear  me  ?     I  love  you  !  " 

«yes." 

"Z)o  you   care,  you  cruel  woman,  —  is    it  any 
thing  to  you  ?  " 


378  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

Then  silence  ;  the  small  flicker  of  the  fire  on  the 
hearth,  the  little  puffing  burst  of  flame  ;  but  silence 
—  silence. 

"May   I    kiss   your  face  ?     May    I  kiss   your 


"Kiss  me." 

Then  what?  He  could  not  seem  to  remember. 
Had  he  pushed  her  aside?  Had  he  run  for  his 
soul? 

Here  he  was,  pacing  up  and  down,  up  and  down : 
eight  steps  from  the  door  to  the  sunken  brick  ;  eight 
steps  back  again.  The  latch  of  the  door  was  brass, 
with  the  thumb-piece  worn  thin,  and  with  little  black 
specks  in  it ;  it  clattered  faintly  under  the  jar  of  his 
steps  ;  a  screw-eye  and  a  hook  answered  for  a  bolt : 
not  much  protection  should  the  landlord  of  fiction 
wish  to  break  in  and  murder  the  sleeping  traveler, 
and  then  bury  his  plunder  under  the  sunken  brick. 
The  fire  on  the  hearth  brightened  suddenly,  as  a 
stick,  smouldering  under  a  film  of  white  ashes,  broke 
in  two,  and  a  shower  of  sparks  flew  up  into  the  thick 
soot. 

Yes ;  he  had  pushed  her  away  from  him,  brutally, 
breathlessly. 

"  When  you  are  free.  When  you  are  free.  Not 
till  then" 

That  he  should  have  said  that,  that  he  could  have 
said  it,  that  he  had  been  able  to  repulse  her,  yield 
ing,  soft-breathed,  glowing,  filled  him  with  astonish 
ment  that  had  in  it  something  of  awe.  What  had 
thrust  his  arm  out,  turned  his  head  away,  defended 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  379 

him  from  himself?  It  was  not  his  own  will,  not  his 
own  desire.  No ;  the  habit  of  integrity  had  driven 
him  into  mechanical  virtue  ;  had  pushed  him,  raging 
against  it,  from  her  presence;  had  dragged  him 
here,  at  midnight,  and  set  him  pacing  back  and 
forth,  up  and  down  ;  all  his  body  summoning  him  to 
her  side,  all  his  decent  past  holding  him  in  this  room. 
Roger  Carey,  caught  by  the  fetter  of  the  habit  of 
honor,  was  saying  to  himself  that  he  had  been  a  fool 
to  leave  her.  What  difference  would  it  have  made 
to  have  caught  her  in  his  arms  for  a  mad  instant, 
and  kissed  her  face,  her  throat,  her  mouth,  before 
the  carrying  out  of  the  plan  bound  up  in  that  single 
utterance,  "When  you  are  free,"  —  a  plan  founded 
upon  the  convenient,  soul-destroying  variance  of  the 
divorce  laws  in  the  different  States  ?  What  differ 
ence  would  it  have  made  ?  Truly  none,  in  the  soul 
and  spirit  of  things.  Nevertheless,  the  letter  which 
killeth  had  for  the  moment  saved  him.  He  beat 
against  it ;  he  set  his  teeth  in  shame  at  his  schoolboy 
scruples ;  but  he  still  paced  back  and  forth,  up  and 
down.  He  wondered  how  early  the  next  morning  he 
could  go  back  to  her,  and  put  into  tender  words, 
words  that  might  fit  an  honest  love,  the  outrageous 
proposition  that,  when  the  sham  righteousness  of 
obeying  the  law  should  have  invested  her  with  a 
sham  respectability,  he  and  she  should  marry. 

A  mouse  nibbled  in  the  wall,  but  stopped  at  the 
creak  of  the  loose  board  under  his  foot. 

"  But  I  love  you !  Good  God,  I  love  you ! 
Do  you  hear  me  ?  I  love  you  !  " 


380  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 


"Do  you  care,  you  cruel  woman^  —  is  it  any 
thing  to  you  ?  " 

"JTes." 

She  had  leaned  her  head  against  his  arm  ;  the 
warm,  white  hollow  of  her  throat  was  under  his  eyes, 
under  his  lips  — 

Yet  here  he  was,  counting  his  steps,  studying  the 
landscape  on  the  green  window-shades  ! 

"Fool!  fool!  fool!"  he  said  to  himself.  He 
thought  he  knew  how  this  scruple  looked  to  her  ; 
the  idea  of  her  contemptuous  amusement  made  him 
loathe  himself  ;  how  she  must  have  laughed  when, 
after  his  theatrical  protest,  he  had  gone  !  It  made 
him  hate  her,  —  a  hate  which  stamped  his  love  for 
what  it  was.  But  Roger  Carey  did  not  stop  to  think 
of  that. 

All  of  a  sudden,  the  room,  with  its  tawdry  fur 
nishings,  its  faint  light,  seemed  insupportable  to  him. 
He  must  get  out  of  doors  ;  he  must  move  about  ;  he 
must  walk.  He  lifted  the  little  clattering  latch, 
and  went  stealthily  down  the  narrow  staircase.  He 
felt  the  oppression  of  sleep  all  about  him,  and  the 
brush  against  his  face  of  the  lifeless  air,  with  its 
wandering  scents  of  the  closed  house.  In  the  office 
there  was  still  a  faint  glow  from  the  open  door  of 
the  stove,  and  he  could  see  upon  the  walls  flaring  no 
tices  of  horse-fairs  and  mowing-machines;  a  cat 
moved  in  the  seat  of  one  of  the  chairs  that  were 
standing  about  the  square  of  zinc  under  the  stove  ; 
she  yawned,  and  sharpened  her  claws  on  the  brittle 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  381 

splints,  and  watched  him  suspiciously  as  he  opened 
the  door  and  stepped  out  into  the  darkness.  It  was 
good  to  draw  a  full,  cold  breath,  and  let  the  silence 
of  the  strong  world  dull  for  a  moment  the  clamor  of 
those  terrible  words. 

He  walked  aimlessly  out  into  the  road,  and  turned 
to  go  up  the  street,  but  stopped  sharply.  No,  not 
that  way,  not  that  way  ;  not  past  —  Lyssie's  house. 
He  would  go  down  the  river-road  to  the  bridge.  He 
heard  his  steps  ringing  on  the  frosty  ground ;  and 
then  he  felt  a  cool  touch  upon  his  cheek,  and  looked 
up  to  see  that  there  were  small,  wandering  flakes  of 
snow  in  the  air. 

"  The  winter  is  pretty  tough  in  Dakota,"  he 
thought;  "she  must  get  in  the  ninety  days'  residence 
early  in  the  autumn."  It  was  lucky  that  he  was  a 
lawyer  ;  he  knew  how  to  arrange  things.  No  one 
need  be  consulted ;  they  could  manage  their  own 
business ;  he  knew  just  how  to  plan  the  easy  iniquity 
of  compliance  with  law.  He  smiled  to  himself  at 
the  bad  humor  of  the  situation,  and  he  observed, 
with  curious,  impersonal  interest,  how,  since  he  had 
spoken  those  words  to  his  friend's  wife,  his  mind 
refused  any  longer  to  be  hoodwinked  by  words  ;  he 
was  seeing  straight  and  thinking  clear ;  being  a 
lawyer,  he  knew  just  how  to  cover  Lust  with  the 
decent  cloak  of  Law. 

"  She 's  got  to  prove  a  year's  desertion.  Well, 
that  's  easy  enough.  Fortunately,  those  three 
months  in  Dakota  are  included  in  the  year.  Still, 
at  best  it  will  be  next  November  before  —  " 


382  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

It  was  very  dark  down  on  the  bridge,  but  far  up 
behind  the  hills  there  was  the  faint  lightening  of 
dawn. 

Yes;  she  should  be  divorced,  and  they  would 
marry.  He  remembered  that  he  had  said  that  he 
did  not  believe  in  divorce ;  what  a  fool  he  had  been  ! 
Why,  without  it  crime  must  inevitably  exist ;  for 
human  nature  was  human  nature.  He  even  used, 
for  the  sake  of  illustration,  that  old,  fallacious,  piti 
ful  argument  that  divorce  must  be  permitted  to  pre 
vent  sin,  even  to  put  an  end  to  sin  if  it  has  begun,  — 
as  though  the  legalization  of  an  immoral  relation 
made  it  moral !  This  young  man,  who  had  felt  the 
stern  passion  for  his  profession  that  a  priest  may 
feel  for  his,  was  ready  to  urge  that  Law,  majestic 
and  relentless,  the  expression  of  the  human  creature's 
best,  should  degrade  herself  by  pandering  to  vice, 
by  abetting  crime,  by  making  lust  legal.  The  time 
had  been  when  all  this  had  been  clear  enough  to  his 
eyes  ;  but  how  different  it  looked  now !  He  said  to 
himself  tha*  divorce  was  necessary  to  the  moral  life 
of  the  community.  His  old  argument  that  the  one 
must  suffer  for  the  many  was  forgotten  —  because 
he  was  the  one. 

He  had  not  come  to  this  opinion  without  a  strug 
gle  ;  he  had  held  to  his  belief  as  a  man  holds  to 
some  last  chance  of  life,  only  dropping  it  at  the  lick 
of  flame  across  his  hands.  The  fire  of  selfishness 
seared  Eoger  Carey's  very  soul;  he  flung  over  his 
belief,  and  fell.  Yet  he  remembered  that  before 
those  dreadful  words  were  said  he  had  told  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  383 

what  he  thought  of  divorce ;  had  pleaded  with  her  as 
a  man  may  plead  for  his  own  life,  —  for  he  knew 
what  her  freedom  would  mean  to  him.  Later,  when 
this  was  of  no  avail,  he  had  told  her  that,  if  she  in 
sisted  upon  carrying  out  this  deplorable  plan,  at 
least  Molly  should  be  spared. 

"  You  are  no  fit  woman  to  bring  up  a  child ;  she 
ought  to  be  with  her  father,"  he  said.  Then,  as  it 
were,  he  made  her  prove  the  truth  of  his  assertion 
by  those  answers  to  his  mad  words. 

But  instead  of  thinking  again  of  those  words  he 
listened  to  the  river,  and  suddenly,  cringing  at  the 
memory,  he  heard  others,  spoken  one  summer  night, 
with  the  splash  of  oars  and  the  brush  of  lily-pads 
against  a  little  rocking  skiff. 

The  river  and  the  bridge  grew  intolerable.  He 
went  back  into  the  village  and  up  the  street,  his 
breath  catching  in  an  oath  that  was  almost  a  sob. 
He  could  not  bear  such  memories.  He  drove  his 
mind  back  to  that  firelit,  perfumed  room ;  he  felt 
once  more  her  panting  breath  upon  his  cheek ;  he 
saw  the  mad  surrender  in  her  eyes  ! 

"  But  I  love  you  !     Good  God  —  " 

"Why,  I  must  —  I  must  see  her  again,"  he  said 
vehemently,  as  though  answering  some  silent  For- 
bidder  in  his  soul.  How  many  hours  must  pass 
before  he  could  go  back  to  her !  He  wished  he  could 
blot  out  the  day  and  find  it  night ;  the  thought  of 
taking  up  that  midnight  scene,  with  the  stern,  cold 
daylight  staring  in  her  face  and  his,  gave  him  a 
shock  that  turned  him  sick.  Such  a  scene  needed 


384  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

darkness  rather  than  light.  "  But  I  ivill  see  her !  " 
he  said,  with  the  panic  of  the  man  who  finds  him 
self  helpless  in  the  grasp  of  an  unsought  repent 
ance. 

It  was  very  still ;  the  frozen  furrows  of  the  road 
were  beginning  to  fill  with  feathery  white ;  the  cold, 
pale  dawn  spread  itself  behind  the  hills ;  there  was 
hoar  frost  on  the  leafless  twigs  of  the  hedge  that  lay, 
in  the  darkness,  like  a  band  of  furry  black  along  the 
edge  of  Mrs.  Drayton's  whitening  lawn.  Far  off, 
from  some  distant  farm,  came  a  weak  crow ;  and 
then  a  dog  barked. 

In  that  hour  Satan  desired  to  have  him.  And  he 
desired  Satan. 

He  did  not  know  why  he  should  have  come  to 
stand  thus  under  Alicia  Drayton's  window.  How 
dark  and  cold  the  house  looked!  She  must  be 
asleep  now.  Oh,  if  he  could  speak  to  her,  if  he 
could  see  her !  It  was  not  the  desire  of  the  lover ; 
it  was  the  human  need  of  help. 

"  Lyssie  !  "  he  called  out  sharply,  and  started,  and 
stepped  back  into  the  shadows.  "  What  am  I  think 
ing  of  !  "  he  said,  and  held  his  breath  lest  she  might 
have  heard  him.  There  was  no  sound  except  the 
faint  rustle  of  the  flakes  in  the  dead  leaves  of  the 
oak  above  his  head. 

Scorched  and  blackened  as  he  was  by  the  fires  of 
these  last  hours,  he  knew  she  would  not  shrink  from 
him;  she  would  not  shrink  from  any  soul  in  trouble. 
She  might  not  understand,  —  that  made  no  differ 
ence  :  she  would  take  care  of  him. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  385 

He  stood  there  a  long  time. 

When  he  went  away,  he  did  not  know  whether  he 
loved  Alicia  or  not ;  he  did  not  think  of  that.  He 
only  knew  that  he  would  not  see  that  other  woman 
again. 


XXX. 

There  is  the  nice  and  critical  moment  of  declaration  to  be  got 
over.  —  STEVENSON. 

WHEN  Koger  Carey  awoke  the  next  morning,  he 
did  not,  for  a  moment,  understand  the  void  of  dis 
may  in  his  mind. 

Then  it  all  cleared,  and  his  intolerable  self-know 
ledge  surged  back  upon  him.  Like  some  insulting 
hand,  his  shame  struck  him  again  and  again  in  the 
face,  while,  with  set  teeth  biting  through  a  cigar 
which  he  had  forgotten  to  light,  he  moved  about  the 
room,  getting  his  things  together  for  his  departure. 

For  of  course  he  was  going  away.  There  was  no 
thing  else  for  him  to  do,  —  nothing  except  to  write 
the  letter  which  must  be  sent  up  the  hill.  The  bru 
tality  of  such  a  course  made  him  shiver  ;  but  what 
else  could  he  do  ? 

He  looked  at  his  watch  to  see  how  much  time  he 
had  before  the  stage  went,  and  discovered  with  dismay 
that  it  had  gone.  Under  his  breath  he  cursed  his 
luck.  To  lose  the  stage  meant  that  he  could  not 
leave  Old  Chester  until  afternoon,  unless,  by  good 
fortune,  he  could  hire  a  vehicle,  and  a  driver  willing 
to  face  the  heavy  rain  which  had  begun  to  fall  since 
dawn. 

Here  he  was,  in  this  primitive  little  tavern,  pulled 
every  moment  by  soft,  invisible  cords,  in  the  midst 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  387 

of  surroundings  which  stabbed  him  at  every  glance, 
with  the  steady  rain  shutting  out  the  river  and  the 
hills,  but  revealing  the  dreary  street,  the  drearier 
barnyard  ;  how  could  he  endure  it  until  four  o'clock  ? 
Suppose  he  should  see  Lyssie  ?  She  did  not  mind 
the  rain,  he  remembered. 

"  I  '11  walk  before  I  stay  here  till  four  !  "  he  said 
to  himself  ;  and  then  he  drew  a  small,  painted  pine 
table  up  to  the  window,  and  sat  down,  a  sheet  of  the 
tavern  note-paper  and  a  bottle  of  watery  ink  before 
him. 

He  must  write  that  letter  even  before  he  sought 
for  means  to  escape  from  Old  Chester. 

He  thrust  his  hands  down  into  his  pockets,  and 
stretched  his  feet  out  under  the  table,  and  stared  at 
a  blue  wool  mat  on  the  bureau.  Then  he  lifted  his 
pen,  looked  at  it  critically,  and  put  it  down  with  a 
fling. 

uMy  God!  "  he  said. 

It  was  hideously  ludicrous  ;  the  incongruousness  of 
the  words  she  had  heard  him  speak  the  night  before, 
with  those  which  he  was  about  to  write  on  this  thin 
bluish  sheet  ruled  in  pink  lines,  with  a  picture  in 
the  upper  left-hand  corner  of  a  bird  sitting  on  a 
fence-rail. 

He  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  again,  and  looked  out 
at  two  dripping  hens  which  had  sought  shelter  under 
an  empty  cart.  The  rain  fell  with  an  increasing  pour. 
The  spout  from  the  eaves  above  his  window  gurgled 
and  chuckled,  and  there  was  a  gush  of  water  into 
the  pebbly  gutter  below.  "  And  of  course  I  have  n't 


OF  THE 
TT  TO-  TT-r  I—I  r-»  .- 


388  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

an  umbrella,"  he  thought  absently.  "  Curse  this 
rain  !  "  He  took  up  the  pen  and  stabbed  it  into  the 
ink-bottle ;  then  he  looked  out  of  the  window  again. 
He  felt  a  sullen  envy  of  a  hostler,  who,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  stood  chewing  a  straw  at  the  stable- 
door  ;  suddenly  the  man  buttoned  up  his  jacket,  bent 
his  head  against  the  rain,  and  went  running  across 
the  yard  to  the  house,  to  sit  for  the  rest  of  the  idle 
morning,  with  steaming  clothes,  by  the  kitchen-fire. 
If  that  red-faced,  good-humored  fellow  caught  one 
of  the  plump  maid-servants  about  the  waist  and 
gave  her  a  smacking  kiss,  once  in  a  while,  it  was  as 
natural  as  eating  and  just  as  unmoral.  "  What 
a  row  we  make  about  nothing !  "  Eoger  thought, 
looking  with  savage  resentment  at  the  blank  sheet  of 
paper. 

A  dog,  with  a  dripping  coat,  trotted  across  the 
overflowing  wheel  ruts  of  the  road.  A  sulky  came 
jogging  down  the  street,  and  drew  up  before  the 
tavern-door. 

The  recollection  of  the  last  rainy  day  when  he  had 
seen  Dr.  Lavendar's  sulky  pierced  Roger  Carey's 
heart ;  he  got  up  impetuously,  nearly  overturning  the 
table,  and  flung  himself  away  from  the  window.  So 
it  happened  that  he  did  not  see  the  old  clergyman 
emerge  from  under  the  streaming  rubber  apron,  or 
hear  him  say,  "  What,  upstairs  ?  I  '11  just  come  in, 
then,  for  a  minute." 

But  that  stab  of  memory,  that  vision  of  the  fresh 
and  wholesome  past,  —  the  rainy  day,  the  old  clergy 
man  and  his  little  blind  horse,  and  —  and  Lyssie,  — 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  389 

made  the  sheet  of  thin  paper,  and  the  words  of 
renunciation  which  he  was  arranging  in  his  mind, 
seem  melodramatic  and  disgusting.  After  all,  he 
had  been  a  fool ;  that  was  the  amount  of  it.  "  There  's 
no  use  palavering  !  "  he  told  himself.  He  pulled 
out  one  of  his  cards,  and  wrote  on  it,  with  that  fierce 
haste  which  fears  to  be  overtaken  by  a  change  of 
mind,  "  I  must  not  see  you  again.  Forgive  me  if 
you  can.  But  I  will  never  see  you  again." 

He  loathed  himself;  he  said  between  his  teeth 
that  he  was  a  brute  and  a  coward ;  but  he  slipped 
the  card  into  an  envelope  and  sealed  it,  pounding  it 
with  his  fist  until  the  little  table  shook.  He  did  not 
hear  Dr.  Lavendar's  step  upon  the  stairs,  and  leaped 
back,  as  though  detected  in  some  shameful  deed, 
when,  under  a  thundering  rap,  the  door  flew  open 
with  such  suddenness  that  the  old  clergyman  pitched 
forward  into  the  room. 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  "  I  thought 
that  door  was  shut !  "Well,  sir,  this  is  first  rate." 
His  face  beamed  with  pleasure.  "  Van  Horn  told 
me  you  were  up  here,  and  I  thought  he  'd  lost  his 
wits.  But  I  never  heard  better  news.  Come,  now  ! 
the  boy 's  writing  a  sonnet  to  her  eyebrow.  Well, 
that 's  right,  that 's  right.  Young  things  will  have 
their  quarrels,  being  young.  But  they  make  up, 
when  they  're  good  for  anything.  They  kiss  and 
are  friends,  as  the  children  say.  Well,  sir,  have 
you  kissed?  " 

"  It 's  very  good  in  you  to  hunt  me  up,"  Eoger 
stammered.  "  I  'm  just  packing,  just  leaving.  I  —  " 


390  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  What !  "  interrupted  Dr.  Lavendar,  sobering. 
"  You  don't  mean  that  little  Lyssie  would  n't  ?  " 
He  unbuttoned  his  great-coat,  on  which  the  mist 
stood  in  fine  drops,  and  sat  down  on  one  of  the  lean, 
unsteady  chairs.  "  She  's  a  most  superior  young 
woman,  sir !  " 

Koger  murmured  an  assent.  He  looked  desper 
ately  about  the  room  for  means  of  escape. 

"  Most  superior ;  and  therefore,  if  she  would  n't 
kiss,  it 's  because  you  did  n't  go  about  it  in  the 
right  way.  Now,  I  tell  you,  young  man,  it  don't  do 
to  be  proud.  Tell  her  you  were  a  fool !  Of  course 
you  were  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  ;  yes." 

"  And  ask  her  to  forgive  you,  like  a  man,  sir !  " 

"  You  're  very  good,  I  'm  sure,"  Koger  said  hur 
riedly,  "  but  I  came  down  here  on  business.  I  have 
not  seen  —  Miss  Drayton.  Mrs.  Philip  Shore  wished 
some  advice ;  legal  advice."  His  voice  shrank,  and 
fell ;  but  Dr  Lavendar  did  not  notice  it.  * 

"  Oh,  is  that  all?  Not  but  what  I  'm  glad  for  you 
to  try  and  bring  those  two  mad  people  to  their 
senses  ;  but  I  hoped  —  I  would  n't  have  spoken  if  I 
had  n't  supposed  you  had  come  down  on  —  another 
matter." 

"  Do  you  think  I  can  hire  anybody  to  drive  me 
over  to  Mercer  in  this  storm,  Dr.  Lavendar  ? " 
Koger  said,  shutting  his  portmanteau  with  a  snap, 
his  back  to  his  guest. 

"  Oh,  don't  hurry,"  commanded  the  other.  "  Now 
you  're  here,  stay  over  till  the  afternoon.  Perhaps 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  391 

you  can  make  it  worth  your  while  !  "  he  insisted 
with  vast  significance,  his  eyes  twinkling  very  much, 
and  feeling  himself  to  be  exceedingly  subtle. 

"  I  'm  obliged  to  be  back  in  town  to-morrow, 
thank  you,"  Roger  answered  stiffly. 

Dr.  Lavendar  sighed.  "  Well ;  tell  me  about 
Philip,  then.  Could  you  persuade  Cecil  to  go  back 
to  him  ?  " 

"  I  hope  she  will,"  answered  Roger  Carey  ;  behind 
his  shut  teeth  he  was  swearing  softly.  "  I  'm  afraid 
I  '11  have  to  leave  you  now,  sir.  I  've  got  to  go 
down  and  see  Van  Horn,  and  get  Jiim  to  hunt  up 
some  sort  of  conveyance  for  me." 

Dr.  Lavendar  was  silent.  He  got  up  from  his 
chair  and  tramped  over  to  the  window,  and  stood 
staring  out  at  the  steady  downpour ;  then  he  turned 
around.  "  Look  here,  my  boy.  Don't" 

"  Don't  what  ?  " 

"  Go  away  without  seeing  her." 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Lavendar,  it 's  perfectly  impossible. 
You  don't  understand.  It  was  all  my  fault." 

"  Why,  then  go  and  tell  her  it  was  your  fault !  " 
The  old  sentimentalist  came  and  put  his  hand  on  the 
young  man's  shoulder.  "  My  dear  boy,  you  are 
young.  I  'm  an  old  fellow,  but  I  was  young  once, 
too.  And  I  was  a  fool  —  just  like  you.  We  fell 
out,  and  I  could  n't  make  up  my  mind  to  eat  humble 
pie.  Well,  she  married  somebody  else.  And  every 
tear  that  girl  shed  —  and  she  shed  enough  of  'cm ! 
—  was  my  fault.  Don't  you  see  ?  It  was  just 
because  my  wicked  pride  kept  me  from  telling  her 


392  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

I  'd  been  a  fool.  Now  don't  you  do  that,  Carey ; 
don't  you  do  it,  boy !  " 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  Roger  burst  out,  and  then  begged 
pardon.  "  You  are  very  kind,  sir,  but  I  must  not 
intrude  upon  Miss  Drayton." 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  man,  and  sighed.  "  I  sup 
pose  you  know  your  own  business.  I  won't  say  any 
thing  more.  I  hope  I  have  n't  offended  you  ?  But 
you  're  wrong,  you  're  wrong." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  wrong." 

Dr.  Lavendar  looked  as  though  he  would  like  to 
make  one  morei  plea  ;  but  he  closed  his  lips,  and 
silently  followed  Roger  downstairs.  He  heard  him 
arrange  for  a  carriage,  and  watched  him  give  a  note 
to  the  landlord,  with  instructions  t6  have  it  sent  at 
once  to  Mrs.  Shore.  "  These  lawyers  have  no  f eel- 
ings,  "  he  thought  indignantly,  for  Roger  stood  star 
ing  at  the  note,  even  after  it  was  in  Van  Horn's 
hands,  as  though  he  could  think  of  nothing  else. 
"  Absorbed  in  his  everlasting  legal  quibbles,  and 
that  poor  child  crying  her  eyes  out !  "Well,  I  don't 
know  ;  I  believe  she  's  well  rid  of  him  !  " 

He  said  good-by  to  Roger  rather  coldly.  "  Joey  is 
not  showing  intelligence  in  his  choice,"  he  thought, 
as  he  climbed  into  his  gig,  "  but  I  'd  rather  have  him 
have  some  heart  than  be  as  intelligent  as  this  young 
man." 

Dr.  Lavendar  was  distinctly  gentler  to  his  bro 
ther,  when,  in  all  the  rain,  Mr.  Joseph  arrived  by 
the  morning  stage.  At  dinner  he  told  him  of  his 
talk  with  that  cold-blooded  young  jackanapes,  Carey, 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  393 

and  he  declared  that  Lyssie  Drayton  was  well  rid  of 
him. 

"  Most  superior  girl ;  really  intelligent,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Joseph  nodded,  and  agreed ;  but  there  was  a 
look  of  absent  melancholy  in  his  mild  face.  Joseph 
Lavendar  had  had  a  blow  :  he  had  learned,  beyond 
any  shadow  of  doubt,  the  particulars  of  the  late  Mr. 
Pendle ton's  will. 

The  information  had  come  to  him  casually,  but  it 
was  not  the  less  deadly.  Coming  down  from  Mer 
cer,  a  passenger  on  the  coach  announced  himself  as 
the  man  of  business  of  a  lady  who  resided  in  the 
charming  village  of  Old  Chester,  —  a  Mrs.  Pendle- 
ton.  Did  his  fellow-traveler  chance  to  know  her? 
He  had  to  get  her  signature  to  some  papers,  he  said, 
and  he  had  come  to  Old  Chester  for  that  purpose. 
Then,  with  a  generosity  ill  befitting  a  man  of  busi 
ness,  he  gossiped  most  entertainingly  about  his  em 
ployer.  Mr.  Lavendar,  thirsting  for  one  particular 
bit  of  information,  tried,  faintly,  to  stop  him,  but 
held  his  breath  at  the  reference  to  "  Pendleton  "  and 
his  will.  "  If  she  marries,  she  loses  every  cent. 
But  I  guess  she  won't  marry.  That  kind  of  thing 
works  both  ways :  it  keeps  the  widow  from  marry 
ing  a  poor  man,  and  it  keeps  a  rich  man  from 
marrying  the  widow  ; "  and  the  man  of  business 
laughed  very  much. 

Mr.  Joseph  felt  sore  and  bewildered.  He  thought 
that  it  would  be  generous  to  tell  James  this  melan 
choly  news ;  James  would  be  so  relieved  to  hear  it. 
But  he  could  not,  just  yet.  He  must  think  it  over  a 


394  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

little  longer.  He  thought  about  it  all  that  afternoon. 
It  was  in  his  mind  when  he  climbed  listlessly  into 
the  organ-loft  for  the  choir-practicing. 

He  felt  that  blank  which  comes  to  a  man  deprived 
of  an  interest,  —  a  blank  which  may  easily  be  mis 
taken  for  grief,  so  it  was  a  relief  to  him  that  Mrs.  Peii- 
dletoii  was  not  present.  "  She  's  afraid  of  the  rain, 
I  suppose,"  said  Susan  Carr,  with  a  curl  of  her  lip. 
It  seemed  to  Mr.  Lavendar  that  Susan  Carr's  voice, 
of  late  so  unsympathetic,  was  kinder  ;  so  he  could 
not  help  being  kinder  himself,  and  resolving  to 
overlook  that  officiousness  which  had  so  annoyed 
him.  He  told  her,  while  they  picked  out  the 
voluntary,  several  bits  of  news,  and  he  asked  her 
advice  about  a  new  chant  with  all  his  old  simple 
friendliness. 

Miss  Susan  answered  politely,  but  somewhat  at 
random  ;  in  fact,  they  were  both  preoccupied.  "  I  '11 
have  to  tell  Jim  ;  and  he  will  be  glad  ;  glad  of  my 
unhappiness,"  Mr.  Lavendar  was  saying  to  himself, 
sadly ;  and  Susan  Carr,  her  cheeks  hot,  was  think 
ing  that  Mr.  Joseph  would  walk  home  with  her,  as 
Mrs.  Pendleton  was  not  there.  "  I  ought  to  have  ar 
ranged  something  so  that  he  should  n't  have  such  an 
opportunity,"  Susan  Carr  said  to  herself,  severely, 
her  eyes  shining  with  content. 

The  practicing  had  never  seemed  so  long.  When 
it  was  over,  Lyssie  hurried  out  into  the  rain,  and  Mr. 
Tommy  ran  after  her,  to  beg  to  hold  his  umbrella 
over  her  head  ;  but  Miss  Susan  found  several  things 
to  detain  her. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE,  395 

She  picked  up  two  Prayer-Books  from  the  floor, 
and  said  that  it  was  a  bad  day. 

She  wished  that  she  knew  how  to  say  to  Joseph 
that  she  was  sorry  she  had  been  disagreeable ;  then, 
if  he  should  press  it  again  —  At  that  a  sudden  fear 
touched  her  like  a  cold  finger :  suppose  he  should  not 
press  it  ?  Suppose  her  systematic  snubbing  had  dis 
couraged  him  so  that  he  was  not  able  to  recognize 
her  contrition  ?  Susan  Carr  drew  in  her  breath  and 
set  her  white  teeth  on  her  lip,  and  said  to  herself 
that  she  was  not  a  silly  girl,  but  a  middle-aged 
woman  ;  she  and  Joseph  had  known  each  other  all 
their  lives,  and  if  he  did  not  understand,  if  he 
should  be  afraid  to  speak,  why,  then,  she  must  just 
say  —  something  friendly  ! 

"  I  wish  it  was  n't  raining  so  hard,"  she  announced 
in  a  fluttered  voice,  listening  to  the  persistent  sweep 
of  the  rain  on  the  roof. 

Mr.  Joseph  agreed  absently.  The  trouble  in  his 
face  brought  a  remorseful  mist  into  Susan  Carr's 
eyes.  Oh,  how  unhappy  she  had  made  him  !  Well, 
it  should  stop  now  ;  yes,  if  she  had  to  say  plump 
out,  "  Joseph,  I  was  a  fool.  I  did  n't  know  my  own 
mind.  But  I  do  now.  And  —  and  — 

She  beat  the  two  Prayer-Books  together,  and 
said,  tremulously,  that  they  were  shamefully  dusty. 
"I  think  your  touch  grows  finer  every  year,  Mr. 
Joseph,"  she  continued,  with  much  agitation  for  so 
simple  a  remark. 

"  You  're  very  good  to  say  so,  ma'am,"  he  an 
swered,  with  a  melancholy  air,  shaking  some  loose 


396  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

sheets  of  music  evenly  together  on  his  brown  broad 
cloth  knees. 

"  I  don't  know  what  St.  John's  would  do  without 
you.  I  've  often  been  afraid  you  would  have  an 
offer  from  some  great  city  church."  She  bent  down 
to  put  on  her  overshoes,  and  her  voice  was  muffled 
and  breathless. 

Mr.  Lavendar  shook  his  head.  "  You  're  very 
good.  I  don't  know ;  sometimes  I  've  thought  it 
might  be  well  to  stay  away  for  a  while." 

"  Oh  no !  "  she  burst  out,  stamping  down  into  her 
rubbers,  her  face  scarlet ;  "  no,  indeed,  Mr.  Joseph." 

Mr.  Joseph  did  not  insist ;  he  sighed,  and  peered 
over  the  rail  of  the  loft  down  into  the  church. 

"  How  early  it  gets  dark  now !  It  seems  to  me 
that  when  I  was  a  boy  it  did  n't  get  dark  so  early  in 
the  afternoon  in  November."  Then  he  opened  the 
loft-door  politely,  and  Miss  Susan  started  down  the 
narrow  circular  flight  of  stairs.  Her  breath  came 
fast ;  she  stopped  abruptly  by  the  narrow  window, 
where,  through  the  mat  of  ivy  stems,  the  gray  light 
struggled  in. 

"  We  'd  better  shut  this,"  she  said,  pulling  at  the 
cord  of  the  little  swinging  sash.  It  was  quite  dark 
here  on  the  stairs,  and  Joseph  was  behind  her. 

"  Mr.  Joseph,  I  Ve  been  wanting  to  say  to  you  — 
I've  been  wanting  to  tell  you  —  that  I've  thought 
over  —  what  you  tried  to  tell  me.  Oh  —  you 
know?"  she  ended  faintly,  tying  down  the  window- 
cord  in  a  series  of  bewildering  knots. 

She  could  say  no  more.     The  tears  were  in  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  397 

eyes  from  the  effort  of  her  words.  Joseph  Lavendar 
was  quick  to  feel  the  frankness  of  her  repentance  for 
her  hardness. 

"  You  are  most  kind,  Miss  Susan,"  he  said,  look 
ing  down  at  the  top  of  her  bonnet  from  his  height  of 
three  stairs  above  her,  "most  kind;  but  I  hadn't 
any  right  to  trouble  you  in  the  first  place." 

"  Oh  yes,  yes,  you  had !  and  I  did  appreciate  it. 
I  felt  it  was  a  great  honor;  only,  I  had  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing,  and  —  and  it  did  n't  seem 
right." 

"  I  quite  understand,  ma'am,"  he  said,  the  wrin 
kles  deepening  on  his  high  forehead.  He  felt  no 
bitterness,  even  though  Susan  Carr  put  into  words 
his  own  scruple.  Her  sincere  friendliness  was  too 
apparent  for  offense.  "No,  it  wasn't  right;  and 
you  were  kind  to  try  to  hold  me  back.  And  I  re 
alize  myself  that  I  'm  a  poor  man.  I  've  only  my 
small  earnings.  I  had  no  right  to  ask  —  " 

She  turned  around  quickly  and  looked  up  at  him ; 
even  in  the  dusk  he  could  see  that  her  straightfor 
ward  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  there  was  a  deeper 
color  on  her  cheeks.  She  made  a  quick  gesture. 

J.  O 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  think  such  a  thing  ?  I  never 
thought  about  money !  It  was  —  Donald.  And  I 
didn't  know  my  own  mind.  But  I  do  —  now." 
Then,  with  great  energy,  she  tied  another  knot  in 
the  window-cord,  and  went  on  down  the  little  dark 
winding  stairs. 

Joseph  Lavendar,  with  his  mouth  open,  looked 
after  her.  He  grew  pale,  and  then  red.  He  said 


398  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

something  under  his  breath,  violently,  and  turned, 
with  two  skipping  steps,  as  though  to  flee  for  shelter 
back  to  the  organ-loft.  Then  he  stood,  palpitating. 

"  Miss  Susan !  "  he  called  faintly,  and  went  stum 
bling  after  her.     "  Miss  Susan,  I  'm  afraid  you  — 
I  'm  afraid  there 's  some  misunderstanding ;  you  are 
so  kind  —  I  'm  afraid  — 

"  No,"  she  said  boldly,  smiling,  but  with  her  eyes 
full  of  tears,  "  no  ;  it 's  only  that  I  know  my  own 
mind  now.  I  didn't  let  you  speak  because  I 
thought  I  could  n't  return  it.  But  now  I  know  my 
own  mind.  And  so  —  I  've  told  you.  It  is  n't  as 
if  we  were  young  things.  We  are  such  matter  of 
fact,  middle-aged  people,  not  two  young  things  —  I 
thought  I  could  tell  you  ?  " 

Joseph  Lavendar  gasped;  he  rubbed  his  hands 
together,  and  opened  and  closed  his  lips. 

All  Susan  Carr's  strength  and  force  had  melted 
into  shyness.  "  I  hope  you  did  n't  think  I  was  for 
ward,"  she  murmured. 

Mr.  Lavendar  swallowed  once  ;  then  his  face  grew 
very  gentle  and  noble.  "  Take  my  arm,  my  dear 
Susan,"  he  said.  "  I  hope  I  may  be  worthy  of  the 
honor  you  have  done  me." 


XXXI. 

Lest  she  should  fail  and  perish  utterly, 

God,  before  whom  ever  lie  bare 
The  abysmal  deeps  of  Personality, 

Plagued  her  with  sore  despair. 

TENNYSON. 

ALL  that  day  the  rain  fell  steadily.  Eoger  Carey, 
his  face  bent  against  the  wind,  driving  in  an  open 
wagon  across  the  hills,  was  following  in  his  mind, 
with  deadly  humiliation,  his  letter  to  his  friend's 
wife.  In  imagination,  he  saw  John  receiving  it  at 
the  door ;  carrying  it  upstairs  on  his  tray ;  fingering 
it,  perhaps,  with  the  supercilious  curiosity  of  his 
kind,  but  handing  it  to  his  mistress  with  his  usual 
immobility.  Probably  she  wotdd  be  in  that  very 
room  where  —  Roger's  hands  tightened  upon  the 
reins,  and  his  teeth  set. 

Well,  she  would  take  it ;  open  it,  perhaps  with  that 
silver  dagger  on  her  desk;  read  it!  He  reached 
forward  for  the  whip,  and  struck  the  horse  viciously. 
"  This  confounded  beast  never  goes  out  of  a  walk," 
he  told  the  boy  on  the  seat  beside  him. 

Yes ;  she  would  read  it ;  he  tried  to  remember 
what  he  had  said :  — 

"  /  must  not  see  you  again.  Forgive  me  if  you 
can.  But  I  will  never —  "  Was  it  "  will  never  " 
or  "  must  never,"  in  that  last  sentence  ?  Why  had 
he  not  made  some  excuse  ?  "  Unexpectedly  sum- 


400  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

moned  to  town  —  will  write  —  '  Anything,  rather 
than  that  confession  of  fright,  and  shame,  and  remorse. 
For  the  moment,  all  his  self-loathing  was  concen 
trated  on  his  gaucherie  :  — 

"  I  must  not  see  you  again.  Forgive  — " 
"  Good  Lord !  "  groaned  the  young  man ;  and  the 
boy  beside  him  said,  "  Sur  ?  " 

"  I  could  walk  faster  than  this  brute  !  "  his  fare 
told  him,  angrily. 

But  the  note  did  not  reach  its  destination  quite  as 
early  as  it  should  have  done.  Van  Horn  said  it  was  a 
shame  to  send  a  "  human  critter  "  out  in  such  a  rain  just 
for  a  letter ;  he  would  wait  till  he  saw  some  one 
driving  up  that  way.  He  waited  until  nearly  noon  ; 
then  John  came  down  to  the  post  office  for  the 
morning  mail,  and  stopped  at  the  tavern  for  a  chat, 
and  there  was  Van  Horn's  opportunity.  Mr.  Carey's 
dollar  for  immediate  delivery  went  toward  paying 
for  the  extra  oil  which  that  young  man  had  burned. 
"  Fer  I  give  you  my  word,"  said  Van  Horn  in  confi 
dence  to  John,  "  that  young  feller  burned  the  lamp 
all  night ;  it  was  burning  there  this  morning  when 
my  wife  went  in  to  red  up  after  him." 

So  it  happened  that  when  Cecil  Shore  read  Roger's 
card  twelve  hours  had  passed  since,  with  that  terror- 
stricken  look,  he  had  left  her ;  twelve  hours  of  real 
ity.  When  she  heard  the  door  bang  behind  him,  it 
was  like  some  frightful  awakening ;  she  stood,  gasp 
ing,  staring  about  the  empty  room  ;  then  sank  down, 
cowering,  and  hiding  her  face.  She  shut  her  eyes, 
quivering  and  crouching,  as  though  she  still  felt  the 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  401 

storm  of  liis  presence.  He  loved  her  !  And  he  had 
gone  —  at  such  a  moment !  Her  heart  rose  in  pas 
sionate  exultation  at  his  strength.  But  he  loved  her. 
"  When  I  am  free  !  When  I  am  free  ! "  she  repeated 
in  a  whisper. 

She  got  up,  and  walked  hurriedly  up  and  down, 
her  breath  broken,  the  tears  wet  upon  her  face. 

"  I  love  him !  "  she  said  to  herself,  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands.  Then,  standing  still,  sway 
ing  back  and  forth,  she  burst  suddenly  into  dreadful 
crying. 

"  Hove  him,"  she  said  again. 

As  she  spoke,  her  eyes  fell  on  some  little  scraps 
of  paper  which  he  had  torn  with  nervous  fingers  as 
he  talked  to  her  ;  and  she  stooped  over  and  brushed 
them  into  her  hand  and  kissed  them,  —  once,  twice. 
Then  she  stood  still,  trembling  for  a  moment,  before, 
with  violent  haste,  she  went  to  the  window  and  flung 
it  open.  As  she  leaned  out,  the  cold  air  struck  on 
her  neck  and  face,  and  the  spasm  in  her  throat 
stopped  ;  it  had  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  breathe. 
Touched,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  by  the  great 
Human  Experience,  her  whole  body  answered  to  the 
summons  of  the  soul. 

But  she  had  no  consciousness  of  morality,  she 
had  no  thought  of  self  ;  she  had  forgotten  that  she 
was  Philip's  wife  ;  or  that  Roger  had  been  Alicia's 
lover. 

A  great  experience  transcends  morality,  because  it 
bursts  the  shell  of  personality  ;  and  in  the  empty 
moment  which  follows  it  identity  seems  lost,  swept 


402  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

out  on  the  surge  of  those  eternal  currents  we  call 
Life.  At  such  a  moment  a  soul  knows  all  things 

o 

but  itself  ;  it  apprehends  the  knowledge  of  beasts,  it 
feels  the  thrill  of  the  stars  shining ;  it  understands 
the  color  of  crimson  in  the  sun  ;  it  is  acquainted 
with  grief  ;  maternity  belongs  to  it,  and  death.  It 
is  a  moment  of  terror  and  magnificence ;  it  is  the 
moment  of  Moses  on  Sinai  ;  but  whether  it  be  for 
good  or  evil,  only  that  discarded  personality  can  say. 

When  Cecil  drew  back  and  shut  the  window,  her 
face  had  curiously  changed.  Living  was  stamped 
upon  it.  Eagerness,  fear,  desire,  all  those  emotions 
from  which  her  satisfied  life  had  shut  her  out,  began  to 
dawn  and  deepen  in  it.  She  paced  up  and  down,  her 
lips  tightening  upon  each  other ;  but  her  eyes  soften 
ing,  and  glowing,  and  dimming.  She  had  decided 
swiftly  not  to  see  him  in  the  morning ;  she,  too, 
would  be  strong.  No  ;  they  must  both  wait ;  "  and 
he  must  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  case,"  she 
thought ;  "we  must  not  speak,  we  must  not  look, 
until  I  am  free.  He  said,  fc  when  you  are  free.' 
Oh,  how  few  men  could  have  turned  back  when  he 
did  !  "  An  adoring  tenderness  shone  in  her  eyes  ; 
she  smiled,  her  lip  quivering,  as  she  stood  looking 
over  at  the  spot  where  he  had  repulsed  her. 

She  watched  the  dawn  come  cold  over  the  hills  ; 
the  candles  in  the  sconces  sputtered  and  guttered, 
and  went  out,  and  the  lamps  burned  with  a  sickly 
light.  She  walked  softly  about  her  room  :  "  Pie 
stood  there.  He  looked  at  that  picture.  He  touched 
this  book."  But  over  and  over  and  over  she  came 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  403 

back,  exulting,  to  that  moment  of  renunciation  when 
he  had  left  her,  —  when  it  seemed  as  though  he 
dragged  her  heart  out  of  her  body. 

And  so  the  morning  broke,  gray  with  sweeping 
rain ;  the  wind  rumbled  sometimes  in  the  chimney, 
and  a  chill  crept  into  the  room,  for  the  fire  had 
burned  out. 

"  He  will  be  here  soon,"  she  thought,  a  deep  color 
burning  in  her  face,  and  her  breath  quickening. 
She  would  hear  his  voice  asking  for  her  ;  hear  him 
being  sent  away.  Well,  thank  Heaven,  he  would 
understand  ;  he  would  even  care  more  for  her  because 
she  would  not  see  him ;  because  she  would  meet  him 
on  his  own  level !  For,  with  this  first  appreciation 
of  anything  but  herself,  such  mere  decency  of  life 
seemed  high  to  this  poor  soul. 

She  had  had  her  coffee,  and  put  on  a  charming 
gown  of  some  soft  silk  ;  her  face  was  full  of  deli 
cate  color.  Though  she  did  not  mean  to  see  him, 
she  felt  the  impulse  to  be  beautiful  just  because  he 
would  come  and  stand  in  the  doorway  downstairs, 
even  though  it  was  only  to  be  told  that  he  must  go 
away. 

And  so  she  waited. 

The  day  darkened  as  the  morning  passed;  the 
rain  shut  her  in  upon  the  passionate  centre  of  her 
self. 

But  it  was  curious  that  he  did  not  come. 

Somehow  or  other,  the  morning  wore  on.  Molly 
clamored  at  the  door,  and  came  in  to  play  with  her 
paper  dolls  on  the  rug  before  the  fire.  The  cook 


404  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

wanted  instructions  for  dinner;  Cecil  gave  them 
carefully,  speculating  a  little  as  to  whether  a  certain 
white  soup  could  be  made  with  this  sort  of  stock  or 
that ;  she  stopped  once,  abruptly,  as  she  was  speak 
ing,  and  listened.  Then  she  said  dully,  "  Yes,  try 
it,  Jane  ;  but  don't  put  in  too  much  wine  ;  "  and  lis 
tened  again. 

By  noon  she  had  begun  to  pace  up  and  down, 
up  and  down.  She  sent  Molly  away,  telling  her 
sharply  that  she  was  a  perfect  nuisance  with  her 
dolls.  She  stood  with  her  hands  behind  her  at  the 
window,  her  mouth  rigid,  her  eyes  troubled  and 
wandering. 

Very  likely  he  had  gone  back  to  town  at  once. 
How  like  him  !  how  superb  in  him  !  But  he  ought 
to  have  sent  a  line.  For,  though  he  might  have 
known  she  would  not  see  him,  it  would  only  have 
been  civil  to  come  —  under  the  circumstances. 

At  noon  his  note  came.  She  grew  white  as  she 
read  it,  and  sat  down,  trembling.  Then  she  dashed 
it  from  her,  and  flew  to  the  door,  bolting  it  and 
clinging  to  the  door-knob,  her  teeth  grinding  down 
upon  her  lip,  her  eyes  furious. 

"  So  :  it  was  an  insult." 

The  color  surged  into  her  face,  and  left  it  white 
again.  She  raged  back  and  forth  across  her  room, 
breathing  hard. 

"  How  dared  he  !  "  Her  hands  gripped  and 
twisted  upon  each  other  as  though  they  would  tear 
the  life  from  the  throat  of  the  man  who  had  kissed 
them,  and  kissed  them. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  405 

He  had  dared  —  and  then  gone  ! 

"  The  insult,  the  insult,  the  insult !  " 

She  was  suffocated  by  hate.  Standing  with 
clenched  hands,  she  ground  her  heel  into  the  floor. 
"  I  wish  it  were  his  face  I  "  she  whispered,  quivering 
all  over.  The  card  was  lying  where  she  had  thrown 
it  on  the  rug  before  the  fire.  "  I  despise  him !  "  she 
said,  and  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  crumpling  it  furiously 
in  her  hand. 

Then,  suddenly,  she  carried  it  to  her  lips,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  why  do  I  love  him,  when  I  hate  him  so  ?  " 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  that,  very  curiously, 
she  went  and  looked  in  the  glass.  She  sat  before 
her  dressing-table  for  a  long  time,  leaning  forward, 
staring  into  the  mirror  with  miserable,  hopeless  eyes. 
It  was  as  though  her  soul  looked  out  of  the  windows 
of  its  prison.  Yet  it  was  only  now  that  she  had 
recognized  that  it  was  a  prison,  this  ruthless  body  of 
hers  that  dragged  her  into  all  its  dreadful  delights ; 
this  body,  with  its  love  of  sloth,  its  sensual  droop  of 
the  lip,  its  cruel  indifference  to  anything  but  itself. 

"  No ;  I  shall  never  be  good,"  she  said  aloud. 
"  I  '11  get  over  this  in  a  week,  and  I  shall  see  how 
amusing  it  is." 

The  consciousness  of  this  ultimateness  of  the  en 
vironment  of  the  body  is  very  horrible.  /Some  time 
in  our  lives  every  man  and  woman  of  us,  putting  out 
our  hands  toward  the  stars,  touch  on  either  side 
our  prison  walls  the  immutable  limitations  of  tern- 


406  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 


perament. ]  "I  can  never  be  good,"  she  said  hope 
lessly,  watching  her  heavy,  tear-stained  face  in  the 
mirror ;  "  and  perhaps  I  should  n't  like  it  if  I  were. 
No,  I  '11  get  over  this,  and  then  I  '11  want  to  kill 
him.  I  know." 

But  she  was  wrong :  Cecil  Shore's  was  not  one  of 
those  fluid  souls  which  slip,  quicksilver-like,  between 
the  fingers  of  circumstances,  returning  always  to  the 
unimpressionable  sphere  of  self.  This  experience 
was  moulding  her  as  molten  steel  is  moulded.  She 
would  never  think  of  it  with  amusement ;  she  would 
always  be  a  better  woman,  no  matter  how  bad 
she  might  become,  because  of  this  one  shuddering 
glimpse  of  righteousness. 

She  held  the  crumpled  card  in  her  hand,  and 
looked  at  it  now  and  then.  "/  must  not  see  you 
again.  Forgive  me  if  you  can.  I  will  never  see 
you  again" 

"  He  does  n't  care,"  she  said  to  herself ;  "  it  was  n't 
love.  What  must  he  think  of  me  ?  "  Her  face 
scorched  under  the  slow  tears ;  she  could  not  bear 
the  shame  of  it ;  and  yet  —  and  yet  —  "I  love 
him  !  " 

"  I  'm  not  good  enough  for  him,"  she  thought 
piteously.  "  I  was  wicked.  He  belonged  to  Lyssie. 
I  was  wicked  !  "  She  groaned  as  she  spoke.  The 
soul  is  not  born  without  agony ;  this  beginning  of 
the  moral  consciousness  knew  the  throes  of  birth. 

He  had  told  her  that  she  was  not  good  enough  to 
take  care  of  her  own  child.  Well,  he  was  right. 
She  saw  herself  in  Europe,  living  the  lazy,  easyr 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  407 

suffocating  life  that  she  loved.  He  was  right ;  such 
a  life  would  be  dreadful  for  Molly  ;  it  meant  mean 
ness,  selfishness,  unrestrained  impulses,  sloth ;  it 
meant  all  that  intellectual  enjoyment  of  materialism 
which  is  a  sensuality  of  the  mind.  But  it  could  not 
be  helped,  unless  —  unless  she  gave  Molly  up  ? 

"  If  I  have  her,  she  will  be  as  bad  as  I  am,"  she 
thought  dully.  She  wished  passionately  that  she 
were  dead,  so  that  Molly  would  be  safe. 

"  Oh,  she  ought  not  to  be  with  me,"  she  said, 
with  a  wail.  "  I  'm  no  woman  to  be  trusted  with  a 
child ;  he  said  so.  He  was  right.  He  knows  what 
my  life  is." 

Molly  ought  not  to  know  such  a  life ;  Molly  ought 
to  be  good. 

"  Not  like  me  !  Not  like  me  !  "  she  said,  dropping 
her  head  down  on  her  arms  crossed  upon  the  dress 
ing-table. 

It  was  nearly  a  week  later  that  she  wrote  to 
him :  — 

I  am  going  abroad  for  such  an  indefinitely  long 
time  that  it  will  perhaps  be  better  to  put  my  affairs 
in  the  hands  of  some  lawyer  on  the  other  side,  in 
stead  of  troubling  you  with  them.  You  were  right 
about  Molly.  I  think  it  wiser  to  leave  her  with  her 
father,  though  I  should  like  her  to  be  under  my 
sister's  influence  to  some  extent ;  may  I  ask  you  to 
try  to  arrange  this  for  me  ?  It  would  be  rather  a 
bore  to  have  her  in  Europe,  and  she  will  do  very 


408  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

well  with  her  father.  I  hope  he  will  give  an  occa 
sional  thought  to  her  soul,  in  intervals  of  saving  his 
own.  Will  you  tell  him  so  from  me  ?  I  will  never 
see  him  again.  Nor  you.  I  shall  be  in  Rome  for 
the  season,  and  later  in  London.  You  must  look 
me  up,  if  you  come  over. 

Sincerely,  C.  S. 


XXXII. 

Some  rise  by  sin,  and  some  by  virtue  fall.  —  SHAKESPEARE. 

"  SHORE,  are  you  at  liberty  ?  I  want  to  see 
you." 

Philip  put  down  his  pen,  and  stretched  out  his 
hand.  "  Why,  hello,  Carey !  Look  out,  don't 
tumble  over  that  waste-basket.  It 's  so  dark  in  here, 
I  did  n't  know  you  for  a  minute." 

The  afternoon  dusk  was  rising  like  a  tide  in  the 
small  office,  and  the  pale  sunshine  was  climbing  the 
wall  to  escape  it ;  climbing  the  wall,  creeping  across 
the  papers  on  Philip  Shore's  desk,  breaking  into 
rippling  shadows  on  the  ceiling,  as  a  flag  on  an 
opposite  building  blew  taut  and  strong,  or  swerved 
and  clung  to  its  mast,  and  then  whipped  out  again  in 
the  high  wind. 

"  You  are  just  the  man  I  wanted  to  see,"  Philip 
said.  "  I  did  n't  know  you  were  in  town." 

"  I  'm  not.  At  least,  I  only  came  this  moment. 
I  was  in  Old  Chester  last  week  ;  and  I  've  come 
now  to  see  you." 

"Ah,"  said  Philip.  "Well?"  His  caller,  it 
appeared,  was  his  wife's  legal  adviser,  rather  than 
his  old  friend  or  Lyssie's  lover,  —  he  had  not  heard 
of  the  broken  engagement ;  so  with  some  formality 
he  offered  Roger  a  chair,  and  braced  himself  for  a 


410  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

conflict  of  words  about  the  situation.  He  had  ex 
pected  a  fierce  and  friendly  remonstrance,  such  as 
this  which  he  thought  he  saw  in  Roger's  eyes,  before 
Carey  should  assume  his  professional  character,  and 
betake  himself  to  the  attorney  in  whose  hands  Philip 
had  placed  his  affairs ;  or  rather,  to  whom  he  had 
stated  his  position  and  his  wishes  about  Molly.  For 
Philip,  having  given  up  the  management  of  his  wife's 
money,  had  in  fact  no  "  affairs  "  of  his  own.  In 
deed,  when  Roger  entered,  he  had  been  engaged  in 
adding  up  columns  of  figures,  and  subtracting  the 
smallest  possible  living  expenses  from  the  sum  total 
of  his  probable  assets,  and  he  was  aware  of  that 
curious  mixture  of  poignant  anxiety  and  absurd 
humor  which  can  be  felt  only  by  the  man  who,  never 
having  known  the  necessity  of  work,  finds  suddenly 
that  if  he  does  not  work,  neither  may  he  eat. 

"  I  can't  even  be  a  bricklayer.  I  've  had  no 
experience,"  he  thought,  morosely  amused.  He  had 
meant  to  consult  Roger  Carey,  for  the  fact  that 
Cecil  had  put  her  business  matters  in  his  hands  had 
no  bearing,  in  Philip's  mind,  upon  their  friendship. 
But  in  the  younger  man's  set  face,  as  he  stood  be 
side  his  desk,  Philip  instantly  read  the  impossibility 
of  this. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said,  curtly,  again. 

"  I  've  come  to  see  you  on  —  Mrs.  Shore's  behalf." 

"  So  I  supposed.  I  knew  that  she  had  asked  you 
to  look  after  her  affairs.  I  'm  very  glad  of  it, 
Carey." 

Roger    sat    down,    bending    his   stick    across    his 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  411 

knees  in  a  fierce,  unconscious  grip  ;  his  face  was 
pale,  and  had  in  it  a  suggestion  of  struggle,  —  a 
struggle  which  had  burned  something  out  of  it,  and 
left  it  strangely  refined,  but  almost  haggard. 

Philip  said,  impulsively,  "  Are  you  under  the 
weather,  old  man  ?  " 

Roger  did  not  even  notice  the  question ;  his  hands 
tightened  upon  his  stick  until  the  knuckles  whitened. 

"  I  'm  not  here  in  any  professional  way —  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  that  is  the  reason  that  I  ap 
preciate  the  professional  part  of  it,"  Philip  began 
warmly.  "I  know  what  your  friendship  is,  and — " 

"  Yes.  Well,  never  mind  that ;  I  've  come  to  ask 
you  to  go  back  to  her." 

"  What !  " 

"  I  want  you  to  go  back  to  your  wife." 

"  Did  she  send  you  here  with  that  message  ?  " 
said  Philip. 

"  She  send  me  !  Don't  you  know  her  better  than 
that  ?  No,  I  'm  here  on  my  own  account.  This 
plan  of  yours  is  so  incredible  to  me  that  I  can't  be 
lieve  it !  You  cannot  be  aware  of  what  you  are 
doing." 

Philip  sighed,  and  seemed  to  draw  himself  to 
gether.  u  We  don't  agree  on  this  subject  of  divorce 
and  separation,  so  what  is  the  use  of  discussing  it  ? 
Although  I  appreciate  your  motive  in  wishing  to  dis 
cuss  it." 

"  You  do,  do  you  ?  " 

A  thread  of  anger  in  his  voice  made  Philip  look 
at  him,  but  Roger  went  on  calmly  :  — 


412  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  No  ;  of  course  there  is  no  use  in  discussing  your 
theories.  I  don't  believe  in  divorce.  I  think  I  told 
you  that  some  time  ago.  I  —  I  still  don't  believe 
in  it." 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  there  should  be  no 
question  of  divorce  in  this  matter,"  Philip  said. 

"  I  know  ;  you  want  to  separate.  And  I  believe 
you  put  it  on  the  ground  of  morality !  " 

"  Absolutely,"  the  other  answered,  with  a  sur 
prised  look.  "  Why,  Carey,  look  here ;  put  the  per 
sonal  equation  out  of  this  for  a  moment.  What 
makes  marriage  ?  A  priest's  gibberish,  or  a  legal 
decree,  or  the  tyranny  of  public  opinion,  which  holds 
a  man  and  woman  together  who  are  separated  in 
every  thought  and  impulse  and  belief?  They  are 
husband  and  wife  by  a  Law  that  transcends  all 
these  things ;  or  else  —  they  are  not  husband  and 
wife !  " 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  'd  rather  not  go  into  that 
kind  of  thing,"  Eoger  said.  "  The  duties  of  a  citi 
zen  I  can  understand ;  but  when  you  come  to  '  higher 
laws,'  I  'm  all  off.  Common  law  's  good  enough  for 
me.  But  what  I  'm  here  for  is  not  to  discuss  the 
abstract  ;  it  is  to  ask  you  to  go  back  to  your  wife." 

"  Apparently  you  are  not  speaking  for  Mrs.  Shore," 
Philip  answered,  frowning  ;  "  and  as  we  don't  agree 
as  to  the  principle,  what 's  the  use  of  talking  about 
it?" 

Roger  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  he  said 
quietly,  "  I  have  a  message  for  you,  Philip,  from  — 
your  wife.  She  is  going  abroad  (unless  I  can  per- 


fOTn 

PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  413 

stiade  you  to  prevent    it),  and  she  has  decided  to 
leave  Molly  with  you." 

Philip  Shore  half  rose.     "  Leave  Molly  ?  "  he  re 
peated,  in  a  dazed  way. 
"Yes." 

"  I  don't  understand.  She  told  Woodhouse  —  I 
thought  she  meant  to  bring  suit,  and  get  possession 
of  the  child  ?  Carey,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  What  I  say.  If  this  theory  of  yours  is  carried 
out,  and  she  goes  away,  she  proposes  to  leave  Molly 
with  you.  She  told  me  to  say  "  —  his  eyes  narrowed 
with  angry  satisfaction  as  he  spoke,  —  "  she  told  me  to 
say  she  hoped  you  would  give  an  occasional  thought 
to  Molly's  soul  in  intervals  of  saving  your  own.  She 
has  also  made  certain  arrangements  as  to  money 
matters  in  relation  to  Molly.  But  I  don't  want  to  go 
into  that  now.  I  hope  it  may  never  be  necessary  to 
go  into  it.  I  hope  you  will  go  back  to  her." 

Philip's  face  was  sunk  in  his  hands  ;  he  was  si 
lent  for  several  moments.  Then,  in  a  low  voice, 
u  What  are  Mrs.  Shore's  reasons  for  this  deci 
sion  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think,"  answered  the  other,  "  that  you 
have  any  right  to  ask  Mrs.  Shore's  reasons  ?  " 

Philip  got  up  and  went  over  to  the  fireplace ;  he 
leaned  his  forehead  upon  his  arm  along  the  mantel 
piece,  and  looked  down  at  a  little  fire  that  was 
shrinking  and  creeping  back  into  the  narrow  grate. 
Roger  watched  him  silently. 

"  No  ;  I  've  no  right  to  ask  her  reasons." 

"  I  suppose,"  said    the  younger  man,  in  a  hard 


414  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

voice,  "  that  you  are  perfectly  willing  to  let  your 
wife  make  this  sacrifice  ?  " 

Philip  turned  upon  him  savagely.  "  Is  this  a 
time  to  say  whether  it  is  agreeable  to  me  to  accept 
a  sacrifice  ?  I  've  got  to  think  of  Molly !  You  know 
she  ought  not  to  be  with  her  mother." 

"  So  you  '11  accept  the  sacrifice  ? "  Roger  in 
sisted,  with  contempt  that  was  like  a  blow. 

"  I  accept  my  child !  "  said  Philip  Shore  hoarsely. 
"  You  can't  understand  this  thing,  Carey,  — 

"  You  're  right.     I  can't." 

« —  but  the  humiliation  to  me  of  letting  Cecil 
give  up  is  not  to  be  considered.  Good  God,  do  you 
suppose,  if  it  were  just  myself,  that  I  would  let  her 
do  it  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say,  I  'm  sure.  You  're  letting  her  do  a 
good  deal." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  You  are  letting  her  take  advantage  of  a  theory 
which  you  consider  essential  to  your  personal  integ 
rity,  whether  it  is  for  her  welfare  or  not." 

"It  is  for  her  welfare." 

"  Is  that  why  you  are  doing  it  ?  I  wonder  if  it 
has  ever  occurred  to  you  that  salvation  can  cost  too 
dear !  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  Philip  answered  impa 
tiently. 

••  I  mean  that  the  pursuit  df  righteousness  for  per 
sonal  ends  is  $ust  a  yielding  to  a  spiritual  appetite ; 
and  it  may  be  as  demoralizing  and  debauching  as  — 
as  the  yielding  to  a  physical  appetite  !  " 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  415 

Eoger  Carey's  stick  broke  suddenly  across  his 
knee  ;  his  hands  trembled. 

"  Race  regeneration  begins  with  the  individual," 
Philip  began. 

But  Roger  broke  in  with  a  sort  of  groan :  "  Who 
is  going  to  be  regenerated,  in  this  case,  —  beside 
yourself  ?  That  part  of  the  race  included  in  your 
immediate  family  ?  Your  —  your  wife,  for  in 
stance  ?  " 

Again  in  the  darkening  room  a  note  in  his  voice 
made  Philip  stare  at  him. 

"  Let 's  look  at  the  value  of  this  sort  of  regenera 
tion  :  suppose  every  man  who  got  tired  of  his  bar 
gain - 

4t  Carey,  you  go  too  far  !  " 

"  —  every  man  who  thought  the  preservation  of 
his  own  precious  integrity  depended  on  it,  should 
throw  over  his  wife  — 

fct  What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  make  an  illustration,"  Roger  said  be 
tween  his  teeth.  "  Suppose  he  left  his  wife,  feeling 
that  the  honor  of  marriage  and  the  salvation  of  his 
own  soul  depended  on  it,  —  you  see,  I  am  granting 
absolute  integrity  of  purpose." 

The  blood  came  up  into  Philip  Shore's  face  as  if 
at  the  touch  of  a  whip-lash. 

"  Of  course,"  Roger  went  on,  "  it  is  conceivable 
that,  the  woman  being  left,  some  other  man  might  be 
attracted  ;  and  —  but  1  need  n't  go  into  all  that. 
You  see  what  possibilities  it  opens  up  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Philip  agreed  ;  "  and  why  not  ?  " 


416  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

"  Why  not  ? "  Roger  stammered,  recoiling. 
"  Why,  because  public  morals  are  to  be  consid 
ered  !  " 

"  Public  morals  will  not  suffer  by  private  virtue," 
Philip  said  contemptuously.  "  I  maintain  that  a 
loveless  marriage  is  n't  a  marriage.  The  question 
of  absolute  divorce  is  n't  a  question  of  re-marriage, 
but  of  marrying  at  all.  The  first  relationship  is  n't 
marriage,  it  is  legalized  prostitution  ;  but  we  are  not 
ready,  yet,  to  make  the  results  of  such  a  mistake 
permanent,  so  the  right  to  marry  righteously  and 
decently  is  necessary.  It 's  a  concession  to  human 
nature,  I  grant,  but  it 's  perfectly  reasonable  and 
proper,  even  though  one  may  repudiate  it  for  one's 
self." 

Roger  said  something  under  his  breath,  looking 
at  Cecil  Shore's  husband  with  a  sort  of  terror. 

'*  Of  course,"  Philip  went  on,  "  I  realize  the  pos 
sible  abuses  of  freer  divorce,  but  I  do  not  believe 
such  abuses  are  inherent  in  divorce.  And  beside, 
other  people's  weakness  or  wickedness  does  not  af 
fect  individual  duty." 

"  There  's  no  duty  that  makes  other  people  either 
weak  or  wicked,"  Roger  burst  out.  "  4  If  meat 
cause  my  brother  to  offend,  then  will  I  eat  no 
meat.' ' 

"  My  brother's  offending  is  his  own  business. 
Beside,  meat-eating  is  not  a  necessity.  Purity, 
honor,  decency, even,  are  necessities." 

"  Shore,"  the  other  answered,  his  voice  trembling, 
"  hell  might  be  a  necessity,  if  you  went  there  to 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  417 

keep  somebody  else  out ;  it 's  the  old  idea,  to  lose 
one's  life  for  somebody  else's  sake  is  to  find  it.  If 
it  was  expedient  for  one  man  to  die  for  the  people, 
it  is  conceivable  that  it  may  be  expedient  to  be 
damned  for  the  people.  I  can't  talk  religion,  but 
that 's  the  way  it  seems  to  me.  You  've  got  to  con 
sider  society,  not  your  own  soul,  in  this  matter  of 
divorce." 

He  was  profoundly  agitated.  He  got  up  and 
walked  over  to  the  window,  and  stood  looking 
through  the  glass  grimed  with  the  smoke  from  in 
numerable  chimneys  below ;  far  off,  beyond  the 
crowding,  huddling  roofs  covered  with  streaked 
and  dirty  snow,  he  could  see  a  yellow  line  of  sunset ; 
his  anger  and  his  shame  fighting  for  words  left 
him  silent.  He  came  back  and  sat  down  again  by 
Philip's  desk. 

"  Shore,  I  '11  take  your  motives  for  granted.  I 
will  believe  that  you  believe  in  them ;  but  go  back, 
go  back !  " 

Philip  was  silent  for  a  moment;  he  watched 
Roger  closely ;  then  he  said  quietly,  "  There 's  no 
use  prolonging  this.  You  don't  understand  the 
situation.  Mrs.  Shore  wishes  to  leave  me." 

Then  the  rein  broke.  "You  know  the  proposi 
tion  was  yours.  For  God's  sake,  don't  be  a  Jesuit ; 
it 's  bad  enough  to  be  a  saint !  And  you  are 
willing  to  accept  your  freedom  at  any  cost  to 
her?  You'd  go  over  dead  bodies  or  dead  souls 
to  save  yourself !  Damn  you,  you  're  not  worth 
saving!  " 


418  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

"  You  're  mad,  or  else  you  're  drunk.  There  's 
the  door." 

"  You  '11  listen  to  what  I  have  to  say  first.  The 
Lord  knows  I  'm  not  anxious  to  talk  to  you,  but 
you  've  got  to  listen,  —  and  I  've  got  to  speak ! 
What  about  your  wife,  if  you  leave  her  ?  and  what 
about  the  fellow  you  dig  a  pit  for  when  you  send 
her  out  into  the  world?" 

"  Your  words  are  an  offense.  You  will  speak 
with  respect  of  Mrs.  Shore  in  my  presence  or  I  '11 
put  you  out  of  it !  " 

The  two  men  were  standing.  Philip  was  trem 
bling  with  rage.  Roger's  hand  was  clenched  on  the 
edge  of  the  desk ;  there  was  a  solemn  frown  in  his 
face  which  made  it  almost  beautiful,  and  strangely 
devoid  of  self.  The  sunset,  loitering  and  lifting  on 
the  wall,  had  been  swallowed  by  the  rising  tide  of 
gray,  and  the  room  was  quite  dark. 

"  You  've  got  to  hear,  Philip,"  Roger  said.  Then, 
lifted  far  above  self-consciousness,  using,  as  it  were, 
his  own  sin  as  an  instrument  of  salvation,  he  leaned 
forward  and  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  I  love  her" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Well,  what 's  the  matter  ?  '  Why  not  ?  '  as  you 
said  yourself.  I  love  her.  How  do  you  like  that  ? 
I  held  her  in  my  arms.  I  held  your  wife  in  my  arms. 
I  — ,  Keep  back,  keep  back  !  You  've  no  right  to 
resent  one  word  I've  said!  You  throw  her  over, 
I  take  her  —  " 

Philip's  hands  leaped  at  his  throat.     There  was 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  419 

no  resistance.  Flung  neck  and  crop  like  a  dog  out 
into  the  narrow  entry,  Roger  Carey  leaned,  breathless 
and  ghastly,  against  the  whitewashed  wall.  His  face 
was  full  of  exultation  ;  it  was  as  though  some 
mighty  hand  of  justice  and  insolence  and  insult  had 
wiped  shame  out  of  it. 


XXXIII. 

There  is  a  passion  in  the  place, 
Power  in  the  air  for  evil  as  for  good, 
Promptings  from  heaven  and  hell,  as  if  the  stars 
Fought  in  their  courses  for  a  fate  to  be. 

BROWNING. 

THE  grimy  sunshine,  lifting  and  lifting  in  Philip 
Shore's  office  in  the  city,  resting  on  crowded  roofs, 
gilding  with  sudden  pallid  glory  the  edge  of  a  chim 
ney,  or  striking  a  red  shine  on  smoky  windows,  was 
lying  in  an  ebbing  tide  of  placid  light  on  the  white 
hills  around  Old  Chester.  It  crept  across  Cecil 
Shore's  leafless  garden,  and  up  the  west  front  of  the 
house,  touching  the  closed  shutters,  and  peering  for 
a  fading  instant  into  the  open  doorway  of  the  hall, 
where  everything  was  confusion  and  haste. 

"The  stage  and  baggage-wagon  will  be  here  at 
five,"  said  Mrs.  Shore,  fastening  her  long  glove  as 
she  came  slowly  downstairs.  "  Just  see  that  every 
thing  is  put  on,  John ;  then  tell  Jonas  to  drive  down 
to  the  rectory  for  me.  Come,  Polly,  come  along 
with  mamma." 

"  Will  Eric  come  with  John  ?  Can't  he  come  to 
say  good-by  to  Dr.  Lavendar,  too?  Shall  we  say 
good-by  to  aunt  Lyssie  and  grandmamma  over 
again  ?  "  Molly  chattered,  as  they  went  down  the 
steps. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  421 

"  Come,  hurry,"  Cecil  said  crossly.  "  What  did 
you  bring  that  dog  for  ?  He  '11  fight  Danny."  She 
looked  down  at  the  child  running  to  keep  up  with 
her,  and  drew  in  her  breath  in  a  sob.  Molly  was 
full  of  questions  :  Where  was  father  ?  What  made 
the  moon  so  thin  ?  Had  the  sun  bitten  a  piece  out 
of  it  ?  Should  they  see  father  to-morrow  in  town  ? 

"Do  you  want  to  see  your  father?"  Cecil  asked, 
her  voice  strained  and  harsh. 

"  I  don't  mind,"  Molly  answered  cheerfully.  "  I'd 
like  to  see  Mr.  Carey.  He  loves  Eric." 

"  Is  that  why  you  like  Mr.  Carey  ?  " 

Molly  shook  her  head,  and  took  two  little  skipping 
steps.  "  I  don't  like  him  very  much.  He  laughed  at 
my  tooth.  I  like  father  better.  Don't  you  like 
father  better  ?  Mamma,  when  shall  we  go  on  the 
ship?" 

They  had  come  to  the  iron  gates  at  the  bottom 
of  the  garden,  and  Cecil  lifted  the  great  rusted  latch  ; 
but  when  they  closed  behind  her  with  a  clang,  she 
stopped,  shivering,  and  looked  back  at  the  garden, 
leaning  her  forehead  against  the  bars. 

"  I  'd  better  say  good-by  to  her  here,  "  she  said  ; 
and  called  the  child,  who  had  run  on  a  little  distance 
ahead.  Yet  when,  with  laggard  obedience,  Molly 
came,  her  mother  only  said,  with  a  curious  breathless- 
ness,  "Take  mamma's  hand.  Don't  run  ahead  that 
way.  (No,  I  can't  yet ;  I  can't  yet !  ")  she  told 
herself. 

As  they  walked  down  the  lane  in  the  gray  twi 
light,  she  kept  putting  off  those  last  words  ;  she 


422  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

talked  constantly,  but  so  entirely  at  random  that 
once  Molly  said,  in  a  puzzled  way,  "  But,  mamma, 
you  told  me  4  yes,'  and  now  you  tell  me  4  no.'  I  don't 
know  ivJiat  to  do  !  " 

"  Molly,  you  will  be  a  good  girl  ? "  Cecil  said 
feverishly,  as  though  insisting  upon  something  to  her 
self.  "  You  must  be  good.  That 's  the  main  thing. 
Promise  mamma  you  '11  be  good  ?  " 

Her  voice  frightened  the  child,  whose  face  puck 
ered  into  a  sort  of  whimper.  "  I  'm  not  a  naughty 
girl!" 

"  Oh,  I  know,  darling,  I  know !  But  promise 
mamma  you'll  try  and  be  good.  (I'll  wait  until 
I  get  to  the  rectory,")  she  thought,  gripping  the 
child's  hand  until  Molly  cried  out,  and  pulled  it 
away  from  her. 

They  came  along  the  narrow  path  to  the  sunken 
door  of  the  rectory.  The  shades  were  not  down, 
and  they  had  a  glimpse  of  Dr.  Lavendar  sitting  in 
his  shabby  dressing-gown  by  the  hearth.  The  little 
dusky  room  was  full  of  lurching  firelight,  brighten 
ing  and  fading,  and  brightening  again.  This  was 
his  free  hour,  and  he  was  sitting  by  himself,  his 
pipe  between  his  lips,  thinking  of  many  things. 
With  one  hand  he  rubbed  Danny's  gray  head,  and 
the  other  was  fumbling  in  the  pocket  of  his  dress 
ing-gown  with  some  uncut  topazes.  Once  he  pulled 
out  a  handful  of  them,  and  held  them  close  to  his 
eyes,  gloating  over  them  with  the  greatest  satisfac 
tion  ;  then  he  thrust  them  deep  down  into  his  pocket 
again.  He  was  trying  to  decide  a  matter  of  taste  : 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  423 

was  it  better  to  preach  on  the  New  Jerusalem  de 
scending  out  of  heaven  like  a  bride  adorned  for  her 
husband,  her  walls  of  chalcedony,  jacinth,  amethyst, 
and  jasper,  the  Sunday  before  Joey  and  Susan  were 
married,  or  the  Sunday  after  ? 

"That  match,"  he  was  saying  to  himself,  "was 
about  as  good  a  thing  as  I  ever  accomplished  in  my 
life!" 

As  they  drew  near  the  house,  Cecil  stopped  and 
looked  in  at  the  tranquil  scene.  "  I  '11  wait  till  I 
have  spoken  to  Dr.  Lavendar,"  she  thought,  shiver 
ing.  "  Molly,"  she  said  hoarsely,  "  give  me  a  kiss 
before  we  go  in."  The  street  was  deserted  and 
nearly  dark ;  no  one  saw  her  crush  the  child  against 
her  breast,  kissing  her  until  Molly,  out  of  breath, 
laughed  and  struggled,  and  tried  to  wriggle  out  of 
her  arms. 

("  I  '11  say  it  the  last  thing ;  the  last  thing.) 
Oh,  Molly,  you  will  be  good?  That  is  all  I  want. 
Promise  me  you  will  be  good  !  Come,  we  must  go  in." 

Then  she  pushed  the  door  open  and  went  down 
the  little  narrow  hall  to  the  library. 

She  came  in,  wrapped  in  her  great  crimson  cloak, 
and  smiling,  in  the  firelit  dusk ;  yet  for  an  instant, 
until  she  spoke,  the  old  clergyman  felt  the  grip  of 
actual  terror  upon  his  heart. 

"  I  came  to  say  good-by,  Dr.  Lavendar  —  "  She 
stopped  and  caught  her  breath.  "  The  stage  is  to 
come  here  for  me.  I  felt  that  I  must  have  the 
blessing  of  the  Church  before  I  left  the  home  of  my 
childhood  for  good." 


424  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  Left  for  good  ?  "  he  stammered,  but  she  inter 
rupted  him. 

"  It  may  be  for  bad.  But  it 's  leaving,  anyhow. 
May  I  sit  down?  Polly,  don't  drag  at  mamma's 
cloak.  Dr.  Lavendar,  I  want  you  to  do  something 
for  me." 

"  Sit  down,  Cecilia,  sit  down,"  he  said,  waving  his 
pipe  at  her.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you :  I  've  some 
thing  to  say  to  you.  I  Ve  been  four  times  to  your 
door,  Cecilia,  but  was  not  admitted." 

"  Oh,  not  really  ? "  she  said  absently,  her  eyes 
fastened  upon  Molly. 

"  The  person  who  opened  the  door,"  proceeded 
the  old  man,  "  said  you  were  not  at  home.  But 
I  heard  your  voice,  Cecilia  !  " 

"Really?"  Cecil  answered,  vaguely;  and  then 
suddenly  laughed,  as  if  at  first  she  had  not  heard 
him. 

"  I  fear  he  is  an  untruthful  person ;  but  that  was 
not  why  I  wished  to  speak  to  you,  though  I  do  feel 
that  you  are  responsible  for  the  morals  of  your  ser 
vants— 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Lavendar,  my  own  morals  are 
more  than  I  can  attend  to  properly,"  she  said,  smil 
ing,  "  and  I  have  only  five  minutes ;  the  stage  will 
be  here,  and  I  must  speak  to  you." 

"  Send  the  child  away,  for  I  must  speak  to  you," 
he  began,  sternly  ;  but  Cecil  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh  no,  please  don't.  In  fact,  you  can't,  before 
Molly,"  she  reminded  him  maliciously.  "  Beside, 
it 's  no  use  ;  everything  is  settled.  But  I  Ve  come 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  425 

(I  'm  so  glad  you  are  at  home)   to  ask  you  to  give 
Philip  a  message  from  me." 

"  Mamma,  are  we  going  to  see  father  to-mor 
row  ?  "  Molly  asked  fretfully. 

"  You  will,  kitty,  in  a  day  or  two.  There ! 
don't  you  want  to  go  and  play  with  Danny?  Dr. 
Lavendar,  I  am  going  away.  I  am  going  to  sail  for 
Europe  on  Saturday."  . 

His  bushy  eyebrows  twitched  with  angry  anxiety ; 
"  I  can't  believe  that  you  will  do  any  such  wicked 
thing.  I  went  to  implore  you  not  to,  those  four 
times  that  I  called.  My  child,  you  can't  do  such  a 
thing  !  I  have  written  to  Philip  —  I  think  you 
are  both  beside  yourselves,"  he  ended  incoherently. 

Cecil   sighed  impatiently.       "  Dr.   Lavendar  — 
But  he  interrupted  her. 

"  Lyssie,  poor  child,  is  heart-broken  about  it ;  she 
sat  here  yesterday  and  cried  until  she  could  n't 
see  ! " 

Cecil  started,  frowning.  "  If  I  've  given  Lyssie 
any  grief,  the  sooner  I  get  away  the  better.  Yes, 
she  '11  be  happier  when  I  'm  gone.  That 's  one  rea 
son  I  'm  going.  Oh,  please  don't  talk  to  me ; 
there 's  no  use.  Listen  to  what  I  want  to  say : 
I  'm  going  away,  and  I  'm  going  to  enjoy  life.  I 
want  that  distinctly  understood.  I  'm  going  to  en 
joy  life.  Only,  I've  thought  it  all  over,  and  I 
won't  take  Molly.  She  would  be  —  she  would  be 
in  the  way.  But  I  want  you  to  tell  Philip  Shore 
one  thing :  say,  '  Cecil  says,  You  saved  yourself,  so 
you  could  not  save  any  one  else.''  Possibly  he  will 


426  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

understand.  Yes,  I  think  he  will  understand.  i  You 
saved  yourself,  so  you  could  not  save  any  one  else.' 
Will  you  remember  ?  You  might  add  that,  having 
saved  his  life,  he  may  lose  it ;  but  no ;  he  '11  find 
that  out  for  himself,  perhaps."  She  rose  and  pulled 
the  crimson  cloak  about  her,  shivering  a  little. 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  he  said  tremulously, 
u  but  Cecilia,  my  dear  child,  just  let  me  make  one 
plea  ;  not  for  yourself,  not  even  for  the  child.  Lis 
ten  to  me,  my  dear.  There  is  nothing  in  the  world 
so  awful  as  the  knowledge  that  you  have  injured  a 
soul.  If  you  go  away,  Philip  will  understand  that. 
Yes,  you  will  grow  harder  to  reach,  Cecilia,  and  it 
will  be  his  fault.  He  will  have  injured  your  soul ; 
there  is  no  anguish  so  dreadful  as  such  a  realiza 
tion  !  Cant  you  spare  him  ?  Are  n't  you  gener 
ous  enough  to  spare  him?" 

It  was  a  high  appeal. 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him,  and  laughed, 
drawing  in  her  breath  between  her  shut  teeth. 

"  I  hope  the  thought  of  it  may  take  him  down  to 
hell.  I  should  be  willing  to  go  there,  if  it  would 
make  him  suffer !  " 

As  she  spoke  there  was  a  trampling  at  the  gate, 
and  the  rattle  of  harness-chains,  and  the  scraping  of 
a  wheel  against  the  gatepost.  "  Here  's  the  stage," 
she  said  lightly,  her  face  white  to  the  lips.  "  I  've 
arranged  that  Molly  is  to  go  to  Lyssie,  until  her  fa 
ther  comes  for  her.  Come,  Polly,  you  are  to  stay 
all  night  with  aunt  Xyssie  ;  shall  you  like  that?  " 

"And  Eric,  too?  "  clamored  Molly. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  427 

"  I  told  Lyssie  I  would  send  her  over  by  Rosa  at 
half  past  five ;  I  did  n't  want  to  make  my  adieus 
under  Mrs.  Drayton's  windows.  Good-by,  Dr. 
Lavendar."  She  held  out  her  hand  carelessly,  as 
she  went  into  the  hall ;  the  front  door  was  open, 
and  the  stage  loomed  up  in  the  dusk,  with  its  lamps 
glimmering  through  the  evening  fog. 

"  Molly !     Come  here !  "  Cecil  said  sharply. 

Dr.  Lavendar  had  followed  them  into  the  hall; 
Rosa  was  standing  in  the  doorway ;  the  stage-driver 
was  leaning  down  from  his  seat,  tapping  the  wheel 
with  his  whip;  John  had  come  up  the  path  to  ask 
some  question.  Cecil  looked  about  her  like  a 
hunted  creature. 

"  Jonas  is  in  a  hurry,  ma'am,"  John  ventured. 

"  I  'm  coming,  I  'm  coming,"  Cecil  said  breath 
lessly.  "  Have  you  got  everything,  John  ?  Is  Rosa 
here?  Rosa,  take  Molly  right  over  to  Miss  Lys- 
sie's  —  " 

"  Mamma  !  "     Molly  began,  half  frightened. 

Cecil  looked  at  her,  and  then  suddenly  knelt  down 
in  front  of  her.  "  Kiss  me !  E/iss  me  !  "  she  whis 
pered,  and  hid  her  face  in  the  child's  bosom  ;  then 
she  rose,  brushing  past  the  little  girl  as  though  she 
did  not  see  her. 

"  I  '11  miss  the  train  at  Mercer  if  I  don't  hurry. 
Dr.  Lavendar,  congratulate  Mr.  Joseph  for  me.  At 
least  his  choice  has  not  been  impulsive ;  they  have 
known  each  other  all  their  lives,  have  n't  they  ?  " 

Then,  smiling  out  of  the  coach,  she  kissed  her 
hand  to  Molly.  "  There,  kitty,  don't  cry  ;  you  are 


428  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

going  over  to  grandmamma's  to  stay  all  night."  She 
pulled  the  stage-door  in  with  a  bang.  "  Tell  them 
to  start,"  she  said  hoarsely.  "  Why  don't  they  start  ? 
Oh,  hurry,  hurry !  Good  heavens,  are  they  never 
going  to  start  ?  " 


XXXIV. 

When  April-time  was  melting-  into  May.  —  Earthly  Paradise. 

IN  April,  in  southern  Pennsylvania,  there  comes 
one  day  when  the  brown  fields  dim  suddenly  with 
green,  as  though  a  warm  breath  passed  over  them. 
The  full,  white  clouds  hang  low,  but  part  now  and 
then,  and  bursts  of  sunshine  move  swiftly  over  the 
meadows  and  up  the  hillsides  ;  the  little  runs  brim 
and  bubble  in  their  narrow  beds,  and  the  larger 
streams  whirl  against  the  big  stones  in  their  paths, 
and  hurry  on,  streaked  with  foam  and  chattering 
loudly.  In  the  orchards  threads  of  water  gush  out 
from  under  tussocks  of  winter-bleached  grass,  or 
spurt  up  under  a  footstep,  and  when  those  sunbursts 
travel  swiftly  over  the  countryside,  all  the  fields  are 
agleam  with  these  innumerable  springs.  The  air  has 
been  warmed  through  and  through  by  the  sunshine 
behind  the  clouds,  yet  it  has  a  cool  edge  that  comes 
from  its  touch  upon  patches  of  melting  snow  up  in 
the  northern  hollows  of  the  hills.  The  buds  have 
hardly  begun  to  open,  but  it  seems  as  if  there  were 
a,  faint  green  smoke  in  the  woods  ;  and  the  stems  of 
the  willows  are  reddening  as  though  some  mysterious 
wine  were  rising  in  them. 

Such  a  day  is  full  of  peace  and  promise ;  one  feels 
a  springing  joy  that  reason  does  not  explain.  No 
doubt  the  grief  of  the  world  is  just  the  same ;  the 


430  PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE. 

grave  is  still  new  in  the  churchyard,  perhaps  ;  faiths 
have  been  broken ;  the  soul  has  earned  its  own 
inviolable  soltitude  ;  nay,  the  sordid  anxieties  of  life 
and  living  are  all  unchanged  ;  —  yet  on  such  an 
April  day  of  sunshine  moving  over  brown  fields,  of 
brimming  brooks,  of  greening  hillsides,  the  heart 
rises,  the  feet  dance,  and  a  song  comes  bubbling  to 
the  lips. 

Alicia  Drayton  felt  this  unreasoning  joy  as  she 
walked  slowly  up  the  long  hill  on  her  way  back  from 
the  upper  village.  Far  down  the  road,  behind  her, 
the  stage  came  tugging  along.  She  had  meant  to 
hail  it  at  the  cross-roads,  and  spare  herself  a  half 
hour's  walk;  but  she  had  not  waited  for  it,  and  had 
walked  on  absently,  yet  with  this  April  joyousness 
nestling  warmly  at  her  heart.  Once  she  stopped  to 
look  back  at  the  stage  crawling  up  the  long  slope, 
and  saw  a  great  stretch  of  sunshine  flood  all  the 
valley,  and  move  swiftly  up  the  hill.  The  fields 
looked  greener  for  its  touch,  Lyssie  thought.  She 
drew  a  long  breath  and  trudged  on,  saying  to  herself 
that  it  was  pleasant  to  be  alive. 

This  was  a  new  feeling  to  little  Lyssie.  It  had 
been  a  hard  winter  for  her. 

First  there  had  been  the  bewildering  grief  about 
Philip  and  Cecil ;  then  the  interest  and  beauty  of 
life  had  seemed  to  go  out  on  the  day  that  Roger 
Carey  slammed  the  door  behind  him  and  went  off 
into  the  rain  ;  and,  while  that  pain  was  still  new,  the 
filial  instinct  had  been  killed  in  her :  Alicia  Drayton 
had  learned  to  know  her  mother. 


PHILIP  AND  HIS  WIFE.  431 

With  such  knowing  had  come  the  tenderest  love 
and  pity  ;  but  the  reverence  of  the  child  for  the  par 
ent,  that  noble  reverence  which  makes  life  deep  and 
beautiful,  was  dead. 

This  grief  had  come  to  the  girl  in  mid-winter.  A 
letter  had  arrived  from  Mr.  Dray  ton  announcing 
his  immediate  and  final  return  to  Old  Chester  ;  and 
there  was  a  dreadful  scene  when  his  wife,  in  the 
miserable  fright  of  a  selfish  woman,  had  had  no 
decent  reserves  before  Lyssie.  The  dignity  and 
sacredness  of  marriage  were  insulted  before  the 
child's  eyes  :  her  mother  had  cried  and  screamed 
with  disappointment  and  passion  ;  she  had  revealed 
her  hatred  of  her  husband,  and  her  fear  of  his  inter 
ference  with  her  comfort.  Afterwards,  there  was 
the  simpering  smile  to  her  little  public ;  her  upraised 
eyes ;  her  "  heartfelt  gratitude  for  her  heavenly 
Father's  goodness  in  thus  blessing  her  by  her  dear 
William's  restoration  to  health."  It  turned  Alicia 
sick.  The  instinct  of  the  child  for  the  mother  ago 
nized  and  died ;  and  with  it  went  the  divine  and  beau 
tiful  believing  of  youth.  But  she  went  on  loving. 
Other  knowledge  had  come  to  Lyssie  in  connection 
with  this  same  experience  :  Mr.  William  Drayton 
had  come  back  looking  very  broken  ;  his  health  was 
just  the  same,  he  said  curtly  ;  he  had  returned  be 
cause  he  had  lost  a  —  a  friend  by  death,  so  he  did 
not  care  to  live  abroad  any  longer. 

"  At  least  it  must  be  a  comfort  to  feel  that  he  is 
at  rest  in  heaven,"  Mrs.  Drayton  said.  "  Who  was 
he,  dear  William  ?  " 


432  PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE. 

"  You  would  n't  be  any  wiser  if  I  mentioned  the 
name,"  he  said  slowly;  "and.  I  don't  care  to  talk 
about  it,  please." 

Perhaps  the  look  in  his  face  suddenly  instructed 
Alicia  Drayton  as  to  what  that  friendship  was.  She 
grew  deadly  pale,  shamed  to  her  very  soul.  The 
somewhat  conventional  affection  with  which  she  had 
welcomed  him  went  out  in  swift  indignation.  For 
a  long  time  it  was  an  effort  to  speak  to  him ;  she 
shrank  from  his  touch,  and  his  commonplace  ques 
tions  and  comments  were  answered  almost  curtly. 
But  that  did  not  last :  she  knew  her  mother.  So  in 
spite  of  shame,  pity  began  to  take  the  place  of  anger. 
At  first  she  was  sorry  for  him,  then,  after  a  while, 
came  a  sort  of  friendliness.  That  she  could  make 
excuses  for  him  was  a  sad  commentary  on  the  child's 
loss  of  youth.  She  thought  about  him  now,  as  she 
walked  up  the  hill  in  the  scudding  sunshine,  and 
noticed,  with  a  pang  of  joy,  a  bluebird  balancing  on 
a  rail,  and  the  sharp  greenness  of  the  grass  in  the 
sheltered  triangle  of  the  zigzag  fence.  "  If  only  he 
had  come  sooner,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  need  n't 
have  said  three  years  ;  and  it  would  all  be  different 
now,  perhaps." 

Mr.  Drayton  had  been  told  of  the  broken  engage 
ment,  and  had  called  Lyssie  to  him  one  day,  and 
said  quietly,  "  Tell  me  why  it  was,  child."  She  had 
told  him,  simply  enough.  He  had  listened,  and 
nodded,  and  looked  at  the  end  of  his  cigar,  and  told 
her  to  bring  him  another  light.  That  was  all ;  but 
he  had  pulled  her  ears  at  tea-time,  and  called  her 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  433 

his  little  monkey  ;  and  it  was  after  that  that  this 
silent  friendship  grew  up.  There  were  no  explana 
tions;  they  were  sorry  for  each  other,  and  under 
stood  ;  and  one  forgave. 

"But  if  he  had  been  here,  it  would  have  been 
different,"  she  thought,  and  stopped  to  look  back  at 
the  stage  ;  she  did  not  reproach  her  father,  even  in 
her  mind. 

Alicia  had  had  a  swift  hope  that  his  return  would 
mean  some  way  out  of  the  distress  and  grief  and 
shame  that  had  come  to  Philip  and  Cecil.  But  such 
hope  had  quickly  died.  Mr.  Drayton  showed  no 
inclination  to  interfere.  He  listened  to  the  story, 
drowsing  through  Mrs.  Drayton's  excited  and  pious 
embellishments  of  it,  and  then  he  took  his  cigar 
from  between  his  lips  and  knocked  off  the  ashes. 

"They  know  their  own  business,"  he  said,  in  his 
slow,  dull  voice.  "  I  'm  glad  there  was  no  scandal. 
I  'm  glad  everything  was  done  decently  and  in  or 
der  ;  "  there  was  a  flicker  of  humor  in  his  half -shut 
eyes  at  Mrs.  Drayton's  disappointment  at  his  indiffer 
ence.  "  And  on  the  whole,  I  think  they  were  very 
sensible;  it's  better  to  be  open  and  aboveboard." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,  dear  William," 
said  Mrs.  Drayton. 

Her  husband  smoked  on  stolidly.  "  No,  I  don't 
suppose  you  do." 

"  But,"  sighed  Lyssie  to  herself,  beginning  to  go 
down  the  hill  into  the  village,  "  it  was  too  late,  any 
how  ;  nothing  could  have  been  done ;  Cecil  would 
never  have  .gone  back  to  Philip."  .  ..  , ..,. •-.j.ji 


434  PHILIP  AND   HIS  WIFE. 

She  was  quite  right.  The  tragedy  of  human  sel 
fishness  destroys  the  fabric  of  life  beyond  repair. 
Yet  Lyssie  had  tried  to  repair  it.  When  Philip, 
with  passionate  haste,  came  down  to  Old  Chester, 
only  to  be  confronted  by  the  dark  silence  of  the 
empty  house,  —  Alicia  had  done  her  best. 

44  Oh,  Philip,  did  you  mean  to  come  back  ? 
Philip,  Philip,  hurry !  go  after  her ;  you  may  catch 
her  before  she  sails  !  Oh,  perhaps  she  will  forgive 
you!" 

He  was  very  gentle  with  her,  but  he  silenced  her. 

He  had  come  to  accept  Molly  from  her  mother's 
hands ;  to  let  gratitude  overcome  his  humiliation  ; 
to  defer  to  Cecil  in  every  possible  way,  —  but  that 
was  all.  The  citadel  of  his  spirituality,  where  Self 
had  intrenched  herself,  was  absolutely  fast. 

44  If  Philip  and  Cecil  would  not  listen  to  —  Roger, 
there  was  no  use  for  me  to  talk,"  she  thought,  as 
she  stopped  a  moment  on  the  bridge,  and  looked 
down  into  the  water.  And  then  the  stage  drew  up 
behind  her,  and  some  one  got  down,  and  came  and 
stood  beside  her. 

44  Lyssie,  will  you  please  —  speak  to  me  ?  " 

And  she  turned  and  saw  him ;  older,  graver,  his 
face  quivering,  his  eyes  imploring  her. 

There  was  not  much  explanation.  To  talk  over  a 
quarrel,  with  its  inevitable  accompaniment  of  self- 
justification,  is  too  much  like  handling  cobwebs  to 
be  very  successful.  Roger  said  u  Forgive  me  "  and 
Lyssie  said  44  Forgive  me,"  and  that  was  about  all 


PHILIP  AND  HIS   WIFE.  435 

there  was  to  it.  Of  course  Roger  had  to  shake 
hands  with  Mr.  Drayton,  and  be  forgiven  by  Mrs. 
Drayton,  and  dine  with  the  family,  and  feel  exceed 
ingly  like  a  whipped  puppy;  which,  after  all,  was 
perfectly  right  and  just. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  they  went  out  to  walk ; 
and  somehow  Roger  fell  silent,  and  Lyssie  did  all 
the  talking.  She  said,  softly,  "  Cecil  will  be  glad. 
I  will  write  and  tell  her." 

Roger  stared  down  the  road. 

"  Do  you  hear  from  Mrs.  Shore  often  ?  " 

"  Not  as  often  as  I  should  like  to,"  she  answered 
sadly ;  "  she  is  so  busy  ;  she  is  very  gay.  But  oh, 
Roger,  she  is  n't  happy ;  though  she  does  n't  seem  to 
miss  Molly  much,  she  hardly  speaks  of  her.  Only, 
I  know  she  is  n't  really  contented  ;  and  I  am  so 
happy !  —  it  does  n't  seem  fair.  Did  you  see  her 
before  she  went  away  ?  " 

Roger  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  then,  you  don't  know  how  dreadful  things 
were.  I  heard  afterwards  that  you  came  down,  just 
before  the  end  of  it  all,  to  try  to  reconcile  them.  It 
must  have  seemed  strange  to  be  here,  and  not  see 
me.  Did  you  think  of  me,  Roger  ?  " 

He  pulled  a  budded  maple-twig,  and  twisted  it 
between  his  fingers. 

"  Yes.     I  —  thought  of  you." 

"  What  did  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  '11  tell  you —  another  time." 

"  Philip  came  down  for  Molly,"  Lyssie  went  on, 
telling  her  little  story,  "  and  I  said  everything  I 


436  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

could.  But  it  was  n't  any  use.  He  was  dear  and 
sweet,  as  he  always  is,  but  he  would  n't  discuss  it. 
He  said  Cecil  wanted  Molly  to  be  with  me  some 
times,  and  he  wanted  to  arrange  about  that.  But 
he  would  n't  talk  about  Cecil.  Molly  is  to  be  here 
this  summer,  and  Philip  will  come  when  he  can. 
I  suppose  he  has  told  you  all  about  it  ?  " 

"  No." 

Alicia  looked  troubled.  "  Have  you  felt  as  if  he 
was  n't  friendly,  because  —  because  our  engagement 
was  broken  ?  I  know  it  never  made  any  difference 
in  his  feeling  for  you.  Let  me  tell  you  what  he 
said  that  day  he  came  for  Molly.  Just  as  he  was 
going  away,  he  came  back  and  took  my  hands,  and 
he  said  —  oh,  Roger,  he  said,  'Lyssie,  if  he  comes 
back,  forgive  him.  He  is  a  good  man.'  He  meant 
you,  Roger.  (Of  course,  Philip  did  n't  understand, 
or  he  would  n't  have  said  4  forgive.'  "  ) 

The  twig  snapped  between  the  young  man's  fin 
gers,  and  he  looked  away  from  her. 

44  What  did  you  say?  "  she  asked  him  softly. 

"  Nothing ;  nothing.  Do  you  forgive  me,  Lys- 
sie?" 

Her  look  told  him. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  deserve  it,"  he  said  brokenly.  It 
was  growing  cold  as  the  twilight  fell  upon  the  river- 
road  ;  they  stood  quite  silently,  with  a  little  sadness 
in  their  joy  which  they  had  never  known  when  they 
had  loved  each  other  less. 

"  You  ought  n't  to  be  standing  here,"  he  told  her 
suddenly,  "  but  I  've  got  to  say  something  ;  I  've 


PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE.  437 

got  something  to  confess,  Lyssie."  They  were 
standing  under  a  little  dogwood-tree,  its  shelving 
branches  white  with  blossoms  ;  it  was  very  still  in 
the  soft  spring  dusk.  Roger  looked  up  and  down 
the  deserted  road ;  then  he  said,  "  Will  you  kiss  me 
just  once,  first?  Perhaps  you  won't  forgive  me 
when  I  've  told  you." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that  sent  the 
color  out  of  her  face.  "  There  is  nothing  you  could 
tell  me  that  is  not  forgiven  already  ;  so  —  don't  tell 
me." 

"Yes,  I  must  tell  you,"  he  said;  but  turned 
away  from  her,  and  stood  staring  into  the  dusk  for 
a  little  while.  "  Lyssie,  I  do  love  you.  I  've  loved 
you  more  every  minute  since  we  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  understand,"  she  murmured,  "  since 
we  _  But  neither  of  them  spoke  the  cruel  word. 

"  I  've  loved  you  all  the  time.  But  once  —  you 
will  never  understand !  but  I  've  got  to  tell  you  ; 
once  I  thought  I  loved  —  your  sister." 

She  started  and  shivered,  her  hands  tightening 
on  each  other  ;  but  she  did  not  speak. 

"  It  was  that  Friday  night  I  came  down.     I  - 

But  she  stopped  him,  tenderly,  though  truly  with 
no  understanding  of  what  he  meant ;  with  only  love 
_  love  —  love.  She  took  both  his  hands  and  pressed 
them  against  her  bosom  in  ineffable  tenderness. 

"  Oh,  Lyssie,  do  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  talk  of  forgiveness  between  us." 

And  then  he  said  passionately,  "  /  love  you  !  n 
and  dared  not  kiss  her,  even. 


438  PHILIP  AND  HIS    WIFE. 

Afterwards  they  talked  of  other  things,  and 
Roger,  square  with  his  conscience,  was  able  to  forget 
that  he  had  had  cause  to  be  forgiven,  but  Alicia  was 
a  little  absent ;  until  she  said,  suddenly,  tremulously, 
"  I  just  want  to  ask  you  one  thing,  and  then  we  '11 
not  think  of  it  again  :  I  want  to  know  if  —  if  she 
cared  ? " 

There  was  no  pause  between  her  question  and 
Roger's  instant  and  generous  lie  ;  but  her  lover  was 
quiet  for  a  while  afterwards.  It  was  a  pity  that  she 
had  asked  him ;  but  a  woman  in  love  rarely  knows 
the  value  of  ignorance. 

After  a  while,  as  they  walked  home,  Roger  be 
gan,  timidly,  to  say  that  he  would  wait  as  long — - 
as  long  as  she  wished.  But  she  interrupted  him. 

"  There  is  n't  any  need  to  —  wait  —  very  long." 


FOURTEEN  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

27Ju!'56GB 


LD  21-100m-2,'55 


YB  74434- 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


